


God's Will

by WordGeek



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Catholic Guilt, First Time, First Time Topping, M/M, Set in September 1997
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-09
Updated: 2006-11-09
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:18:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 53,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9299768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordGeek/pseuds/WordGeek
Summary: Instinct and circumstance, faith and destinyWARNING:This story deals with matters of a religious and spiritual nature in a 'Jack' kinda way. If you think this might offend you, please DO NOT read this story. Any resemblance to a particular place of worship is purely coincidental.





	

 

 

It'd happened so fast, there hadn't been time for fear. Fear of the men who followed him, fear for those gunned down inside the church, apparently because of him. He'd known they were planning to take him out; he'd counted on it. What he hadn't counted on was them deciding to do so while he was still inside the goddamned church.

_Ten minutes - all he'd wanted was ten fucking minutes! Not to cleanse his soul, or to ask for forgiveness; he was too dirty for that, but he needed to try to make peace with it. Suicide by government contract seemed like a fair way to go out, considering everything, but how the hell had they found out so soon?_

Now the church sanctuary was running with blood, and the bodies of several innocent parishioners littered the center aisle, all because he'd suddenly had a crisis of conscience. He had no way of knowing if any of them were still alive, or just trying to lay low, and he had no way to get help for them.

He'd honestly thought he could do it; deliberately walk into a hail of bullets. He had no real reason not to. He couldn't do his job anymore, and that made him a liability to those who'd hired him, who'd paid him to do their dirty work over the years. He knew too much, and he'd seen too much. No one retired from his line of work, which was just a damn shame, because he knew of a sweet little cabin in northern Minnesota, right next to a pond with no fish, which would've been a perfect place to spend his golden years.

Not too many men in his profession ever reached those golden years, which was one of the hazards of the job. Some did, if they had a foolproof cover in place, one with several twists and turns leading to various dead ends, giving them enough time to relocate, if discovered, to go further to ground.

He could've done that; he had the cash and the contacts; he just didn't have the heart to bother. But something, maybe a self-preservation instinct so deeply ingrained he couldn't ditch it, had unexpectedly surfaced, and now he was sitting there with the results of it all around him.

Off to his left, his eye caught movement, and he spun on instinct, weapon raised. A young man, blue button-down shirt, khaki pants. Alarm written all over his face, as he stood -stupidly- paying no attention to Jack, agape, just surveying the carnage.

_Too stupid to be one of them._ "Get down!" he ordered in a whisper.

The man crouched behind the pew on the other side of the center aisle from him, calm but horrified eyes peering out from behind round, wire-rimmed glasses. "What happened?" he demanded. "Who are you?"

"Name's Jack; you got a name?"

"Daniel."

"Which way'd you come in, Daniel?"

"Up from the basement. I heard the screaming."

"Pretty hard to miss," Jack muttered as he continued to keep his eyes trained on the open doors at the back of the church.

"Is it over? We have to help these people--"

"I only know one way to find out," Jack said, standing.

"What are you _doing?"_ Daniel hissed, lunging for Jack's elbow across the aisle and succeeding only in snagging his jacket.

Jack wrenched his arm free, surprised by the young man's strength. "Keep your head down!" he ordered, his jaw clenched tight. "Let me see if I got 'em all!"

Keeping wary eyes, he made his way slowly to the back of the church, weapon at the ready. He passed several people, obviously just parishioners, injured, but breathing. "Just stay down," he advised each of them in a low whisper.

Six pews away, he saw one of the shooters lying face down, a pool of dark blood spreading out on the floor from what was probably a gaping hole in his belly, judging from the size of the puddle. Jack nudged the shoulder of the body with the toe of his boot; not surprisingly, all he got back was a wet squelching sound.

All the way down the aisle and further into the darkened vestibule, Jack saw the other one, equally and quite obviously dead. Head wounds were usually pretty definitive. He had no idea if that'd been all the Agency had sent, and he didn't recognize either of them. Momentarily miffed that they'd only thought him worthy of two guys, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sirens in the distance, and he knew he had less than a minute to do whatever he was gonna do.

Being taken into custody by the locals, when he'd only been defending himself, just didn't sit right with him. His self-preservation instinct won out, and he decided to run; he figured he'd be able to blend in with the emergency workers and the crowds of gawkers that would be showing up momentarily.

Leaving the scene was always the hardest part of it. Not acquiring the target, not pulling the trigger, not even justifying the hit. It was the _getting away with it_ that was the most difficult part of his job every damn time.

He made his way back to the front of the sanctuary, where he'd left the young man, and slid onto the floor beside him. "I think they're all neutralized; help's on the way. Stay down, just in case, and you'll be fine." He unloaded the weapon, dropping the unused shells into his pocket. He then used the edge of his jacket to wipe his prints off the gun he'd lifted from the first guy he'd dropped, stashing it under the pew.

"Where are you going?" Daniel demanded.

In an instant, Jack took the young man's measure. Early thirties, longish dark blonde hair, fair complexion, nice looking, and the bluest eyes Jack had ever seen. Those eyes were snapping with righteous indignation, demanding accountability.

"Look, I didn't do this; I merely put an end to it," Jack replied. "And I have a fatal allergy to sirens." He turned toward the side door to make his escape. He heard the footfall half a second before the guy spoke, but it wasn't enough.

_"There_ you are."

They both looked up at the source of the voice looming over them, and Jack mentally kicked himself. He immediately started formulating a plan he wouldn't've needed if he'd left when he should have, instead of ogling blue-eyes.

"Did you think hiding out in the church would protect you?"

"It always worked for Duncan MacLeod," Jack quipped.

The man raised the butt of his rifle and slammed it into Jack's jaw, sending him sprawling. "I wasn't _talkin'_ to you!"

Reeling from the blow, Jack blinked in amazement at the man kneeling on the floor next to him. Daniel was whispering angrily up at the man, and Jack thought it was possible the glare accompanying whatever it was Daniel was saying might actually be enough to cause the gunman to spontaneously combust.

_They know each other._ Jack glanced back up at the asshole who'd decked him and sure enough, now the guy was staring straight down at Daniel.

"Bobby told me you'd be in here," the man smirked. "I just made me a hundred and fifty large."

_So. Not my mess after all..._

When the man raised the gun and aimed it point blank at Daniel's chest, Jack did the only thing he could, given his position on the floor. He lunged at the shooter's knees, toppling him over. The gun fired, but the shot went wild.

Jack and the shooter both scrambled to their feet, but thanks to the marble floor, and Jack's bum right knee, the shooter was faster. He raised his weapon again, this time aimed at Jack.

To Jack's surprise and horror, Daniel dove for the man, interposing his own body between him and Jack. The shot found its mark, and Daniel went down instantly, slamming his head on the corner of the wooden pew on his way to the floor. Moments later, the shooter lay dead, but still twitching, Jack's switchblade protruding from his throat.

After Jack wiped his bloody hand on the shooter's pants leg, he scrambled over to where Daniel lay unmoving. He could hear the sirens just up the block. _Outta time..._ A hand to Daniel's neck found a surprisingly strong pulse, and a quick examination discovered he'd taken a grazing shot to his left temple. There was also a sizable lump starting to form beside it.

Jack hesitated for just a moment, weighing the possibility of there being a fourth, as yet unseen, shooter. Decision made, Jack grabbed Daniel's glasses, which had skidded to a stop underneath the pew, and tucked them into his shirt pocket. He retrieved his knife from the cooling body, slipping it un-cleaned into the pocket of his jacket.

"Daniel!" Jack whispered urgently. "It's not safe here; we gotta move!"

"Huh?"

"Can you walk?"

"Sure. 'm fine," he slurred.

Jack struggled up with the wounded man, yanking his right arm over his shoulder, then clapping the heel of Daniel's left palm to the wound on his own temple, right under a shock of dark blond hair. "Push. _Hard._ And walk."

"Yeah. I got it." After a few steps, Daniel pulled away from Jack. He glanced around, his disorientation obvious. "Glasses-"

Jack pulled them out of his pocket and handed them over, scanning the crowd that had gathered in the approaching dusk. He was wary of anyone paying them an inordinate amount of interest, but it appeared that so far, they were in the clear.

Daniel slipped the glasses on, badly smudged, but intact. "What the hell just happened?"

"Not here. We need to haul ass. Stay close."

Daniel followed without question, feeling that the man was leading him to safety.

They waited behind the church, in the shadow of a long row of dumpsters, until the crowds of onlookers grew enough so they could blend in with them. Daniel kept his face mostly down, his long hair hiding the drying blood on his temple for the most part. Gradually, doing their best to assume an air of casualness, they wove their way through the rubberneckers and rescue personnel for several blocks, where Jack's SUV was parked.

"Get into the back seat," Jack ordered. "The windows are tinted to within half a percent of legal; no one'll even know you're back there." He climbed into the front and started the engine, then turned on the headlights. "There's a first aid kit with chemical cold packs and aspirin in the back; can you reach it?"

"Got it."

"Fix yourself up as best you can; I'm gonna buy us some distance."

"Yeah."

~~~

They'd put several silent miles behind them as Jack intermittently watched the rear view mirror. The young man in his back seat put pressure on his own head wound, bandaged it up with a wad of gauze and tape, and finally applied an icepack. "So what's your story?" Jack asked him.

"What'd'ya mean?"

Jack glanced at the man's reflection, frowning. "Those guys in the church were there to kill you, Daniel. A lot of people got hurt along the way. What's. The. Story?"

Daniel squinted at him. "What did you just call me?"

Jack did a double take. "You told me your name was Daniel; isn't it?"

"Look, mister--"

"Jack."

"Jack. I don't have the slightest idea what's goin' on here. For all I know, _you_ shot

me--"

"Not me, buddy," Jack said as he came to a stoplight. "But you jumped in the way of the bullet he meant for me, so I figured I owed ya one."

They stared each other down via the mirror for several long moments before Daniel looked away. "Yeah, okay."

Head wound... amnesia?

"Try and think; what do you remember?" Jack asked as he turned onto the freeway and merged smoothly with the traffic. The more distance he put between him and that damned church, the better.

~~~

Daniel's head wound was superficial, but his amnesia was apparently total; he had no memory of who he was, or why he'd been in the church. Jack's evaluation of Daniel's physical condition was based on years of experience treating his own wounds. Flesh wounds, though, not amnesia; he had zip experience with that.

There had been numerous times Jack had wished for the blessing of amnesia -- no memories of himself or his past, with the possibility of a fresh start, a clean slate. He'd never been that fortunate.

Not having a better idea, he'd brought Daniel home with him, 'home' being the small suite he'd rented in the Marriott Residence Inn on the outskirts of Colorado Springs. The last time Jack had had a real home was a whole other lifetime ago. Lately, it was safer if he just kept moving.

Once there, Jack had cleaned away the crusty dried blood on Daniel's face, disinfected the gash, and applied a proper bandage, which was mostly hidden under floppy hair.

Now he was standing in the kitchenette with a cold bottle of beer pressed to his bruised jaw, watching Daniel standing at the bathroom sink as he tried to rinse the blood stains out of his pale blue shirt, and wondering why the hell he hadn't just left him there to fend for himself.

His brain told him it was because the shooter had mentioned a 'Bobby', and that meant that unless 'Bobby' was among the deceased in the back of the church, which he had no way of determining, there was still someone after Daniel. Daniel had taken the bullet that should've belonged to Jack, and now Jack owed him something.

But standing there watching Daniel as he bent over the sink, Jack's eyes traveled down across the pale skin of his naked back and down over the bump of his ass, and his dick told him he was full of crap. Even in the loose khaki's, Jack could tell that Daniel had one fine ass.

Two hours ago, Jack had been making himself ready to die, and somehow in the five minutes he'd interacted with this stranger behind closed doors, his dick had decided he had time for one more bit of living before he checked out for good. It was a real shame about the amnesia...

Daniel glanced up at the mirror and smiled slyly at Jack's expression behind him. For some reason he couldn't fathom, and despite the bizarre situation he now found himself in, he instinctively felt completely safe with the guy. A warm heat twisted in his belly, a feeling he recognized well. "Like what ya see?"

_Something to be said for not playing hard to get._ "Oh, yeah."

Daniel straightened, abandoning the shirt to soak in the half-full sink, and grabbed a towel to dry his hands as he turned around. He made no attempt whatsoever to be subtle as his gaze raked Jack from his bare feet to the top of his just-starting-to-go-gray-at-the-temples hair. He had nothing but a gut feeling, which told him Jack was telling him the truth and he could trust him. And _god,_ he was hot... "Me, too. Let's go."

Daniel had opened his belt and started undoing the button on his slacks before he'd crossed the threshold into the only bedroom in the two-room suite. By the time Jack joined him, Daniel was already naked, his glasses on the nightstand, his clothes in a pile on the floor.

Didn't seem as if Daniel were much bothered by the amnesia, either. "So much for foreplay..." Jack muttered as he stripped off his shirt. He got a whiff of his own sweat, but figured Daniel probably didn't smell like a rose either, and from the size of the boner he was already sporting, most likely wasn't in the mood to much care.

"Life's too short to waste time on foreplay," Daniel replied, flopping down onto the edge of the bed. He leaned back onto his elbows, completely at ease with displaying his nudity as he continued to appraise Jack's body as it was gradually revealed to him.

Jack let himself admire Daniel's attributes as he slid his jeans and boxers off in one go and kicked them aside. Daniel had no tan lines at all, not even a farmer's tan on his biceps. Evidently, he didn't get out much.

"You top?" Daniel asked, getting right to the point.

Daniel's eyes never left Jack's cock, which Jack found amusing. And hot. Daniel needed it bad. "Mostly. You bottom?"

The expressive blue eyes flickered up to Jack's, and there was a hint of a smile in them. He might not remember his name, but he was sure of that. _"Exclusively."_ He glanced back down at Jack's cock, which was only half hard, and realized he had some work to do. "Come here," he instructed.

Jack took the two steps necessary to stand beside the bed, in between Daniel's knees, and bit down hard on the gasp that tried to escape when Daniel immediately deep-throated him. Daniel's tongue seemed to know the most sensitive places on Jack's cock, and he got busy tormenting them with just the right amount of pressure. He exerted suction, delicious, tortuous, gentle suction, but not nearly long enough for Jack's liking. Daniel's large hands grasped Jack's ass cheeks, kneading them and pulling them apart roughly, opening his sweaty crack to the air as he continued to lick and suck Jack to full hardness.

"I think we can work with that," Daniel said, admiring his handiwork. He swiped his arm across his wet mouth. "You have supplies, I hope?"

"Drawer," Jack managed, jerking his thumb to indicate the nightstand beside the bed. His head was reeling from Daniel's amazing tongue work, and he wondered if the man was a pro. He decided to wait till after to ask.

Daniel had climbed up the bed and scored the condom and the lube, dropping the bottle onto the bed. He ripped the package open with his teeth and spit the foil onto the floor.

Jack watched the lithe body move, toned, but not muscular, and admired the uncut package between Daniel's legs. His mouth watered, and he wished to god this wasn't going quite so fast. Jack knew there were people after both of them, but he hadn't started feeling antsy yet, and his hackles had never lied to him before. He figured it would take a couple of days before the Agency understood that Jack had failed, and he thought they had time to enjoy this a little on the way to the big O.

"Slow down," he said, reaching out to caress the other man's shoulder. "We've got a little time here; let's enjoy this." Daniel's skin was soft, his chest completely devoid of hair. His happy trail started immediately below his navel and branched out to a dark-blond bush with a bit of a reddish tinge, and his thighs were lightly furred, blending to slightly denser hair further down his legs. Daniel was a little younger than Jack usually let himself have, but well beyond the age of consent. In fact, he looked like he knew just what he wanted. "What's your damned hurry?" Jack asked, smiling a little.

"Been a long time," Daniel replied as he deftly rolled the condom onto Jack's dick. He lifted it to one side when he was done and bent his head to Jack's groin, taking both of Jack's balls into his mouth at once.

"Dear god," Jack gasped. You couldn't _pay_ for stuff like this. He knew; he'd tried. "I wanna suck you off..." he choked out. _For hours..._

"No," Daniel stated firmly, letting Jack's testicles go with a noisy slurp. "I want the bang." He moved backward up the bed like a crab. "Back or front?"

Jack blinked and struggled to make a coherent reply. He was being asked to make a decision, and his brain had checked out long ago. He strained to bring it back online now. Taking Daniel from behind would give him deeper penetration -- always a good thing -- but it sacrificed everything else. And unlike a lot of the times he'd paid for it, Jack wanted to see Daniel's eyes when he came. He wanted to know what that moment of surrender would look like on the beautiful, unlined face.

"On your back," Jack said, climbing onto the bed. On his way up Daniel's body, he stopped at his dick and gave it an experimental lick. Daniel moaned but didn't complain, so Jack did it again, slowly this time, enjoying the silky skin beneath his tongue. Daniel's eyes were closed, his head thrown back, and he didn't look like he hated it, so Jack took the uncut head between his lips, pushing gently at the foreskin with his tongue to fully expose the glans. He could feel the head growing fatter in his mouth, as the hood slid peacefully into place behind the dark red ridge.

Daniel's scent was intoxicating, and Jack took more of his dick into his mouth, bracing Daniel's hipbone with one hand just in case. Sure enough, when Jack's lips hit Daniel's pubes and the head of Daniel's dick smacked into the back of Jack's throat, Daniel's hips came up off the bed.

"Don't make me come," Daniel warned through clenched teeth, his abs taut with the effort of control. He made no move to dislodge Jack's mouth from around his cock, however.

Jack moved off, but stayed in the neighborhood, breathing warm, teasing air on the wet organ with every word he spoke. "What's your comeback time? Can you get hard again?" he asked, kissing the dick in his face. "I won't come," he promised.

"I don't know; it's been too long," Daniel frowned, almost frantic with need. "Can you just do it? Can you just fuck me?" His impatience showed in the way his hands gripped the sheets.

With one last longing swipe of his tongue, Jack moved up Daniel's body between his legs, pushing them wide apart. Daniel lifted them without being asked and draped them over Jack's shoulders, presenting himself.

"Let me prep you--"

Daniel grabbed Jack by the back of the neck and pulled him down. "I don't know you well enough to let you put your fingers in my ass." Then he kissed Jack angrily, and thrust his hips, striking their rigid cocks together like flint, sparking delicious agony for both of them. _"Do it!"_

Through gritted teeth, Jack grabbed the lube and slicked his covered cock, then lined up and started to shove.

Beneath him, Daniel's spine arched, head thrown back as he let out a keening sound that would've had the cops there in minutes if Jack hadn't muffled the noise by covering Daniel's mouth with his own. Panting and straining from trying to take it slow and still get it over with, Jack continued to ease into the tight entrance, until he was all the way in. He could see Daniel straining to open his body to the invasion, and as his gasps subsided into whimpers, Jack finally let his mouth go, but stayed close enough to feel Daniel's breath on his face.

"You okay?" Jack breathed, wondering just how long it'd been for Daniel; he was so fucking tight. A looker like this shoulda had all the takers he could've ever wanted.

"Yeah," Daniel panted, "oh, _god_ , yeah. Now, will you just fucking _move?"_

_Pushy bottom._ But then those who didn't switch usually were; they got off on the prostate high, and that's all they were looking for. Jack was just a dick to him, just a way to tickle his sweet spot.

Jack knew a few tricks that he thought might have Daniel thinking differently. "In a minute," he whispered, "I wanna catch my breath."

Daniel clenched his ass and his teeth at the same time. "Come on, old man; I don't have all day."

"You got somewhere else to be?" Jack frowned, rising up onto his arms for better leverage. "Somewhere better than _this?"_ He angled his hips and thrust once, deeply, hitting Daniel's prostate on the first try. Instead of withdrawing for another slide though, Jack just circled his hips, effectively performing direct prostate massage with the head of his dick.

Within moments, Daniel's face was red, and he trembled under the onslaught of the direct stimulation. Jack knew he could keep Daniel dancing like this for a very long time.

"Uhnnngh..." Daniel gasped, his eyes wide as his shoulders came up off the bed. "Fuck! Don't stop..."

Braced on his arms, Jack smirked. "But I'm an 'old man', remember? I don't know how long I can keep this up..."

"All right, you're a fucking GOD," Daniel choked out. "Just. Don't. Stop."

Jack smiled. A punk in Shanghai had taught him this one; Jack would be forever in his debt. Watching Daniel like this, his chest heaving, feeling the tight heat all around him, Jack was nearly hypnotized with the power of it. "You shoulda let me suck you off," he whispered, biting at Daniel's chin. "I'm pretty good at that, too."

"Ungh!" Daniel panted, his eyes closing, letting himself savor the buzz without distraction.

Jack was feeling pretty smug for being able to hold Daniel this way. He kept it up for a little while, just admiring what he could see of the man beneath him. The longish hair had fallen away from Daniel's eyes, parting a little off center, revealing what Jack's grandmother had always called a 'widow's peak' high on his forehead. The gunshot wound on his temple had stopped bleeding, and a day's worth of golden-reddish stubble was beginning to darken his jaw line. But what Jack most wanted to see was the startling blue eyes. "Open your eyes," he whispered. "Look at me."

Daniel's eyes fluttered open, but Jack wasn't sure they were actually seeing him. "You ready to come now?" he asked softly.

"Gaaahh!" Daniel let out the breath he'd been holding. "Want _this..."_ he panted.

"I'll bet you do," Jack nodded smugly. "I can keep it up indefinitely," he said in his most accommodating tone, "but if I don't bring you off soon, you're gonna have some issues whenever you try to piss for the next coupla days."

Daniel seemed to think about the pros and cons of that arrangement for a long moment before he spoke. "Okay," he panted.

Jack smiled. "Is that, 'okay, Jack, keep me here till my happy button pops' or 'okay Jack, I've had enough, let me come now'?"

Daniel's eyes rolled back as he closed them and reached for his dick.

Jack pushed Daniel's fist away. "Uh-uh. _I_ say when."

"Bastard," Daniel spat.

"As a matter of fact, I am," he agreed, leaning down to mouth Daniel's neck as he started pumping for real; the scrape of his belly giving Daniel's dick just a little additional stimulation, but not quite enough to send him over yet.

"Yeah, just like that," Daniel grunted, holding Jack close to him to increase the pressure; it bent him nearly double, but it was worth it. _So long... it'd been so very long..._

Jack's arc of thrust wasn't very extensive, pressed in tight this way, but the increased surface area of bare skin rubbing and touching on each stroke made up for it. He knew both of them were very close; he could feel Daniel's fingernails gouging his back, and he seemed to be sobbing quietly.

_"When,"_ Jack breathed, and then bit down on Daniel's throat, sucking hard.

"Oh, yes... _please!"_ Daniel cried out, babbling now, his body completely in thrall to Jack's authority.

Jack heard more words after the 'please', he could've sworn it was Latin, but he didn't really care. If Daniel were speaking in tongues, that probably meant he was havin' a good time. He felt Daniel's hole start squeezing him, and then his come, warm and fragrant, spurted between them. Jack took the cue and increased the force of each short thrust, five in all, and let himself come, too, silently as always.

When it was over, Jack tried to roll off him so they could both get cleaned up. But Daniel wrapped his long legs around Jack's waist and pulled Jack's head back down into his neck, locking his arms together across Jack's back so he'd get the idea he wasn't supposed to move.

As his breathing started to even out, Daniel's eyes closed, and he murmured, "Stay."

It was an order if he'd ever heard one, and Jack smiled and let himself be embraced. In truth, it'd been a long time since he'd felt someone's arms around him, and it felt pretty damn good. He supposed Daniel was just looking for the most gentle dismount possible, considering the rough entry, and wanted Jack to soften up before he pulled completely out. He couldn't fault him for that.

Jack amused himself while he waited by licking the soft skin beneath Daniel's ear, and realized the saltiness was more than sweat; that he'd really been crying after all. Jack figured they were good tears, or else Daniel would've pushed him off by now, so he leaned his weight on his elbows and continued to nibble at Daniel's neck as he waited for his dick to go down. After a long couple of minutes, Jack felt Daniel's legs begin to relax from around his waist, and he thought he heard snoring.

Jack leaned back, and sure enough, the guy was sound asleep. He pulled back some more, and Daniel's arms fell limply to the bed. He got all the way off, and Daniel rolled onto his side and into a ball, never once waking up. Jack covered him with the bedspread and went to take a shower and pack up.

~~~

Standing by the sink devouring a power bar almost an hour later, Jack heard the rustling of the bedspread as Daniel arose, then the displacement of air as the man walked up behind him.

He turned around while Daniel was still a couple of feet away. Fully hard, his dick seeming to seek Jack out, Daniel's gaze was on Jack's mouth. Jack tensed, waiting to see what Daniel would do.

Finally, Daniel's eyes lifted to meet Jack's, and he asked, "You wanna go again?"

Jack grinned. "You're cock-happy," he accused fondly.

Daniel shrugged. "Been a long time."

"How long?"

Daniel nervously smoothed the back of his hair with his left hand as he pursed his lips. "I don't really remember, but I know you're one of the best I've ever had."

Jack looked hurt. "Just 'one' of the best?"

"You're an ego on legs, y'know that?" Daniel smirked, his right hand taking an unself-conscious pull on his dick. "Can you go again, or not?"

"No time." Jack was starting to get antsy to move on, and he'd never ignored his hackles to any good. "Need to get the hell outta here. Now you can stay, the rent's paid up through the end of the week, but I've gotta head on out."

"Where to?"

Jack shrugged. "I'll know when I get there. You got any idea who that guy was, or why he wanted to kill you?"

Daniel shook his head, reaching for the power bar in Jack's hand. He took a big bite out of it and handed the rest back.

Jack looked down at the half-eaten snack with one raised eyebrow.

"What?" Daniel asked around the granola in his mouth. "You'll put my dick in your mouth, but you're worried about germs on the cookie?"

"It was my dinner."

"I'll buy you a cheeseburger."

"With what? You got money?"

"Like you didn't search my clothes while I was sleeping."

"Which is how I know you're flat broke."

"Take me with you."

_"What?!"_

Daniel let out an exasperated sigh as he began to pace restlessly. "Look, for some reason that completely escapes me at the moment, someone's out to kill me. You and I seem to make a pretty good team--"

"You _do_ take a bullet pretty well..." Jack mused.

Daniel's hand came up to finger his wound as he glared at Jack. "I'm being serious," he snapped.

"And I'm not?" They stared at one another for several long moments, neither willing to back down.

Daniel met Jack's eyes defiantly. "I'll suck you off."

_Oh, here we go._ "That your story? You're a hustler, a punk?"

"No," Daniel shook his head firmly, "I've never fucked for money." Then he frowned and shook his head again, wondering how he even knew what the term 'punk' meant. "At least I don't think I have..."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "What _do_ you do for a living?"

Daniel looked off into space, his expression tightening as if he were trying to chase down and corner the elusive information in his brain. Ultimately, he gave up, his frustration evident but controlled. He winced a little and touched his temple. "I don't have the slightest idea. Any clues in my wallet?"

"No wallet."

"Jack!"

"Daniel..."

"I don't. Have anywhere. _To go!"_ Daniel bit off through tight lips.

"And that's my problem exactly _how?"_ Jack demanded loudly. "I don't take in homeless waifs!"

"What do _you_ do?" Daniel asked sharply, no longer on the defensive. He folded his arms across his chest and lifted his chin, somehow managing to look angry, in spite of the fact he was completely naked. "You seem to handle a gun pretty well."

"It's better for both of us if you don't know any more than that," Jack said, turning to grab the open bottle of water on the counter.

_"Please."_

Daniel kept his eyes lowered this time, not meeting Jack's gaze, and Jack noted the sudden switch of tactics. And he heard the same plaintive tone he'd heard an hour ago when Daniel had been ready to come; _'please'_ , and it touched him in ways it shouldn't have. He had no business feeling sorry for this guy, none. He had his own problems. Big ones.

And if Daniel was more than a little attractive, and an exceptional lay, that was simply the luck of the draw. Didn't mean they had to set up housekeeping together.

Daniel hated begging; standing there naked, his belly coated with dried come, his sore ass sticky with used lube, he felt like a fool. He hated the submissiveness of it, but he knew he really had no other options than to try to get this man to help him however he could, however he had to do it. "I'll let you fuck me again."

Jack snorted. "Seems like you got the best end out of that deal, Daniel. You fuckin' passed out--"

"I'll do whatever you want," Daniel conceded angrily, his jaw set firm. "But I don't think I can do this alone."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Jack bit off harshly. He utterly refused to let himself get sucked into someone else's problems at this late date. He had to figure out what his next step was gonna be, and he didn't have a lot of time to do it.

"I can't afford to be dragged down by hangers-on. You may not have noticed, but I was having a little bit of difficulty in the church before you came on the scene. I've got to get moving NOW." He glanced at the man standing before him, pushing down the insane urge to take him into his arms, to bury his face in the silky hair. "Trust me; you're better off being as far away from me as you can possibly get," he added as gruffly as he could.

Daniel's teeth clenched, finally at the end of his rope. If Jack wasn't going to help him, then he was on his own. In a strange city, with no memory, and not a cent to his name. And with someone apparently wanting him dead. It was about as bad as it could get. And about to get worse. "Can you at least give me some money?" he asked, the question leaving the bitter taste of humiliation in his mouth.

"For the sex?" Jack asked, narrowing his eyes. "That'd pretty much make you a pro then, wouldn't it?"

"Forget it!" Daniel snapped, turning on his heel and heading for the bathroom. "I'll figure something out on my own!" He slammed the bathroom door and turned on the hot water as hard as it would go. He felt filthy in more ways than one, and he just wanted to feel clean again.

When Daniel got out of the shower, Jack was gone. He'd left three 100-dollar bills on the nightstand.

~~~

Daniel stalked around the tiny apartment, mad enough to chew nails. Hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks, he strode around first the living/dining/kitchen area, then the bedroom. Rinse, lather, repeat.

He was in a pretty bad way. All he owned was the clothes on his back, such as they were. His khakis had a blown knee he didn't remember getting, and his shirt was wet and had brownish stains on the left shoulder from the blood he couldn't get out. His shoes seemed to be in decent shape, but his socks and boxers could certainly have used a change.

And of course, he had Jack's 300 dollars. _Bastard._

Daniel tried not to think about how furious he was, because honestly, hadn't he _asked_ for money? He really had no right to complain, because after all, Jack had only given him what he'd asked for. He'd slept with Jack because he'd wanted to -- oh, how he'd wanted to. Daniel couldn't remember how long it'd been since he'd last had sex, but once he'd felt Jack's beautiful cock inside him, he'd remembered how much he loved it, craved it. Being filled so completely, taken so skillfully...

He was getting hard again, just remembering. He shook it off and tried to get back with the program. What could he possibly have done to make someone mad enough to kill him?

Daniel tried to think about where he'd been living, where he'd grown up, where his parents were. Friends, extended family. All blank. Empty. Nothing.

As much as he seemed to like dick, he figured he was probably gay; he could remember an attractive woman with short, blond hair who seemed familiar to him, but he didn't think he'd ever slept with her. There was a woman with long, dark hair too, but that memory was a lot less distinct. He couldn't bring back any male faces but Jack's.

He tried to imagine why he'd've been in that church, but that was coming up blank as well. He reached up and touched his head, wincing as he felt the goose egg that had formed on his temple.

Jack had said he could stay there till the end of the week. Very funny. Like he knew what day it was. He didn't even have a watch. The clock on the microwave said it was almost midnight, so whatever day it was, it was almost tomorrow anyway.

He took stock of the kitchenette. Three bottles of beer and four power bars. The breakfast, lunch, and dinner of champions, apparently.

And hit men.

Jack was obviously some kind of assassin; he'd figured out that much. What Daniel couldn't figure out was why the hell a hired killer would be in a church. Did hit men _attend_ church? Obviously, that one did. In any case, he was alive because Jack had been in that _particular_ church at that particular time. He couldn't spare the effort to wonder about the serendipity of running into Jack.

Jack. Who'd given him 300 dollars and then run out on him. _Fuckin' bastard._

At least with Jack gone, he could finally think. The man was a seething mass of bottled-up sexuality, and being around him had made it difficult for Daniel to think about anything but fucking. He was getting nowhere trying to remember who he was and where he'd come from, but he thought that was somehow less important than why someone might want to kill him.

Daniel had no idea what town he was in, not a clue what town he was _supposed_ to be in. All he knew in the world was Jack and Jack's cock, and now Jack had left him, and taken his dick with him. _Bastard!_

He supposed he should try to sleep, but he was too pissed off for that. And horny. Apparently, he'd been without it for a very long time, because it seemed like his body figured it suddenly had a lot of time to make up for. He supposed he could get along that way, if he had to. He could use Jack's cash to buy some decent clothes and then pick himself a street corner and see who drove by. He wondered how much money he could make selling himself.

Of course, that also meant he'd be pretty damn visible in case whoever wanted him dead happened to drive by, too, so that brilliant idea sort of cancelled itself out.

It kept coming back to the church. Daniel figured he had to have been there for a reason; it was possible that someone who lived or worked near there, or who attended the church regularly, might've seen him before. Might know who he was.

Somehow, he had to figure out how to get back there.

~~~

Jack sat in his darkened vehicle, watching the door. He'd separately ditched his jacket and the bloody knife a while back, and now the dampness of the evening was sinking into his bones.

A week ago, when he'd checked into the hotel, he'd picked a room with windows that looked out into the interior courtyard instead of the street for a reason. Now that was just pissing him off, because he couldn't _see_ anything!

He wondered why he was even bothering to hang around. He'd told Daniel he could stay till the end of the week; it was entirely possible he wasn't coming out until Saturday, in which case, Jack was in for a long freakin' wait.

Jack wasn't sure he was buying the amnesia story in the first place, and he was having trouble figuring out why he should care at all, one way or the other. Sure, he supposed it was possible that a bump on the noggin was enough to knock something out of whack, but it was also possible that it was all just very convenient. Daniel's actions at the church -first to pull Jack out of the potential line of fire, and then to protect Jack with his body- seemed almost too altruistic to be true.

And really, what business was it of his anyway? They'd helped each other out of a jam, and they'd had pretty good sex. What more was needed, for cryin' out loud? But he stayed where he was as he argued with himself, eyes glued to the hotel door, not really sure what he was watching for. He'd been there for almost an hour, and nothing untoward had happened. A couple of people had walked by on their way to somewhere else, but no one seemed to give the building a second glance.

Jack broadened his area of interest a bit to include the buildings on either side, and that's when Jack saw him. Nothing but a gray outline of a man, standing dead still. _So. Not the only one watching, then..._

Jack continued his vigil. A short time later, the front door opened, and Daniel stepped out. He looked first left, then right, as if trying to decide which way to go, then set off toward the lights of town. Jack watched with creeping uneasiness, as Daniel apparently noticed nothing sinister as he passed the alcove where the shadow waited. Ten seconds later, the dark figure moved out, keeping pace with him.

By the time Jack had crossed the street, Daniel's pursuer was a mere two silent steps behind him. Jack figured the guy would use the alley coming up on their right, and he did, lengthening his stride and pulling Daniel into the darkness, his arm around Daniel's throat to prevent his crying out. Daniel struggled and tried to break free, but the man had pinned one of his arms behind him while he was choking him, and Daniel had no leverage at all.

Jack was two steps behind and enveloped the man in a chokehold of his own, which he held tight until the man passed out. Jack patted him down, but he had no weapon, no ID.

"Let's go!"

"Jack?" Daniel gasped, peering around in the darkness, his hand at his throat.

"Yeah. Let's _go!"_

"Did you kill him?" Daniel asked anxiously, standing over the motionless body, coughing.

"No," Jack replied, grabbing Daniel's arm.

Daniel shook him off and knelt next to the fallen man, turning his face to the dim light from the lamp across the street to see if he recognized him. He did seem familiar, but Daniel couldn't come up with a name. "Are you sure?"

Jack ground his teeth as he endeavored to keep an eye out in every direction in which they were vulnerable. _What was wrong with this guy?_ "Yes, Daniel," Jack said in a low, controlled voice, "I'm _very_ sure. But if you don't get a move on _right fuckin' now,_ that's likely to change. Because if he sees my face, then I'll _have_ to kill him."

Daniel looked up at Jack from over his left shoulder, and realized Jack wasn't kidding. He stood, gripping the wall as he fought a wave of dizziness. He wanted to ask why Jack was there, why he'd left, but he figured now wasn't the time. Jack was back, and that was all that mattered. "Where to?"

"That's better," Jack muttered under his breath. "Follow me; take my lead."

Daniel strode along behind Jack, trying to look casual. He saw Jack's SUV parked in a way that was inconspicuous, but the entrance to the hotel could still be seen. He figured Jack had been waiting for him to come out; he just couldn't put his finger on why.

They got into the vehicle, and before Daniel'd even had a chance to buckle his seatbelt, Jack had started the engine, and they were on their way. "Where're we going?"

"Right now? Just outta here. Around. I gotta think."

"About what to do with me?"

Jack glanced over at his passenger. Daniel seemed calm, and for a man who had just gotten mugged mere hours after being shot at, that just blew Jack away. "Yeah," he said softly. "Now shut up, will ya? I gotta think."

"That's cool," Daniel said, feeling safe for the first time since the shooting. He yawned and slouched down, crossing his arms against the chill and leaning his head against the window. "I'll just grab a few..."

"You do that," Jack muttered. _If the amnesia wasn't real, he was a damned good actor._

*****

"Wake up, Daniel. Rise and shine."

"Wha- Where are we?"

Daniel's voice was warm and sleepy-sounding, and it made Jack's dick twitch. He did his best to ignore it. "A friend's," Jack replied, grabbing a small duffel bag from the back seat. "C'mon."

They were in a residential neighborhood full of houses dark with sleep. Daniel followed Jack silently as they maneuvered between two of them into a back yard, and then down a dank stairwell. Jack rapped his knuckles against the door in a pattern that Daniel thought sounded vaguely familiar. Then, several beats later, he rapped a different pattern, they heard the bolt being thrown, and the door was opened.

The room beyond the door wasn't any brighter than the stairway had been, but Daniel followed Jack closely as they moved inside. After the door was closed and re-bolted, the lights came on, temporarily blinding them.

Daniel put his hands up in front of his eyes, blinking until they adjusted. When he opened them, it was to face the barrel of a huge pistol, being held in both hands by a beautiful, petite brunette.

Jack moved from beside Daniel to stand alongside the woman, but the weapon wasn't lowered.

"Jack? What's goin' on?" Daniel asked cautiously, hands spread wide in supplication.

"Daniel, meet Janet and her Glock."

"Hey, Janet," Daniel said quietly. "Very nice to meet you. You wanna maybe lower the gun, please, before it accidentally goes off?"

"If this weapon discharges, honey, it won't be by accident," she assured him softly.

"Janet's very good with all kinds of weapons," Jack mentioned, dropping tiredly into a nearby chair. "I taught her everything she knows."

"How come I don't find that reassuring?"

"What's your story?" Janet demanded.

"What _is_ it with you people?" Daniel snapped. "If I had a story, I'd tell you. All I can remember is being in a church, guns going off, dead bodies lying all over, and then Jack dragging me out to his SUV while blood poured from my head." His eyes flickered to Jack, behind her. "Then Jack took me to his place and... fixed me. Um, my head."

"Who jumped you in the alley?" Jack asked.

"I have no idea."

"I saw you looking at his face; did you recognize him?"

"No. Yes. Sort of."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Which is it?"

"He looked familiar, but I can't put a name to him, or tell you where I've see him before."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"He didn't have a chance; you took him down as soon as he started choking me, and thanks for that, by the way. Did you check for-"

"Nothing on him."

"Figures," Daniel muttered. "Now what?"

Jack gave Janet a look and jerked his head to the hallway behind them. She lowered the weapon, thumbing on the safety. "Now," Jack said quietly, "Janet looks you over."

"Um, Jack..."

"Your head, Daniel, relax. She's a doctor, and she's going to make sure I didn't give you gangrene of the temporal lobe or something."

Janet smirked, then started down the hall. "Follow me."

Daniel started to follow Janet, but Jack stopped him, motioning with a finger. "Gimme your shirt."

Obediently, Daniel unbuttoned the shirt and stripped it off without comment, handing it to Jack.

Janet led them down a short hallway, to a small room that looked an awful lot like a doctor's office. She snapped on a set of latex gloves. "Up on the table, sugar," she said in her soft southern accent, "and let's see what you've got."

*****

Thirty minutes later, Daniel was freshly disinfected and bandaged, and a little chilled from being shirtless. "I don't see any sign of intracranial bleeding," Janet observed. "You got a headache?"

"Yeah, but it's better now than it was right after."

"Let's get you something to eat and some aspirin, Daniel."

"Thanks, that'd be great," he said, following her out of the room and up the stairs. "Are you and Jack, um-"

"We're just good friends."

"I see."

"I doubt it," she smiled, pushing open a door at the top of the stairs.

Jack was sitting at the kitchen table, eating some kind of noodle casserole. He pointed with his fork to the microwave. "Yours is in there."

Daniel retrieved the plate of food and set it on the table opposite Jack. He sat, hands folded together. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, murmuring something under his breath, then crossed himself quickly. He opened his eyes and started to devour the food without discussion.

Jack glanced up to where Janet was standing, and they exchanged a look.

"So you're Catholic," Jack said evenly, around a mouthful of food.

"Huh?"

Jack made a lazy approximation of the hand gestures in explanation and continued chewing, watching Daniel closely.

"Oh. I hadn't even noticed. I guess so. Is that illegal in whatever state we're in?"

"Not illegal," Jack said easily. "In fact, it makes sense, I guess, seein' as how we were getting shot at inside a Catholic church." Daniel looked off into the distance, in what Jack had come to think of as his 'looking for answers' pose. After a minute, he shook his head.

"Nothin?" Jack asked.

"Un-uh," Daniel replied, devouring the food.

Janet set two glasses full of ice on the table and filled each of them with brown liquid.

"Jan makes the best sweet tea anywhere," Jack boasted.

Daniel sipped it and gave her a smile. "It's very good," he said truthfully, "all of it. And thanks for the-" he touched his bandage.

"Anytime," Janet said smiling. "You want some more?"

"Yes, please," Daniel said, handing her the plate but hanging onto his fork. He looked at Jack while Janet dished him more of the food and set it in the microwave to heat. "Now what?"

"That's an interesting question," Jack replied, pushing his own plate away and pulling his glass closer, considering it carefully. "What we know about you wouldn't fill a thimble. Your name's Daniel, you're Catholic, and someone very smart wants you very dead."

"Why smart?"

"Because they waited until I'd left, not only the building, but the area, until they were sure you'd be alone, before they tried to take you out."

"If they're so smart, why'd they only send one guy?"

"Because they don't know _me._ Or they didn't. My guess is next time, they'll send a few more."

"Next time?"

"Do you have some thought they're done trying to kill you?" Jack inquired archly.

"I suppose not." Daniel thanked Janet for the second helping and spread it out to cool. "You left the area?" he asked softly.

"I did."

"And then you came back." Daniel looked up over the top of his full fork to consider the man sitting across from him. His return still surprised Daniel. "How come?"

"Because I figured they'd try again," Jack snapped irritably. He didn't really want to examine his motives too closely. "Are you sorry I did?" he asked, putting it right back onto Daniel.

Daniel looked like he had to think about it for half a second before he shook his head. "No. You could've told me what you were planning, though."

"No, I couldn't have. First off, I had no way of knowing whether or not they'd already tailed us and might have audio capabilities, and secondly, I wasn't sure about you and this whole amnesia thingy."

"And you are now?"

Jack glared at him. "If you hadn't've been on the level, Jan would've let me know."

Daniel looked from Jack to Janet, then back down at his meal. There was an undercurrent there, two people who knew each other extremely well. He figured his questions about that should probably wait, though. "That still doesn't answer the question of 'now what'?"

Jack took a deep swallow of his tea and stifled a burp. "The obvious solution would be for you to go to the authorities; they'd be able to figure out who you are pretty fast. The matter of why someone's after you will probably become obvious right after that."

"What if they're the ones who're after me?"

"The police?" Jack asked. "Not likely. The guy in the alley was no cop."

"How do you-"

"It's my _business_ to know."

Daniel thought about it while he finished the last several bites of food. "Thank you, Janet," he said with a smile as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "That was delicious."

"You're welcome, sugar," Janet said with a wink as she took his plate.

"I don't think I should go to the police," Daniel said slowly.

Jack eyed him carefully. "You got a reason for that? You wanted for something?"

Daniel shook his head and shrugged. "I don't think so, but I can't be positive." He looked up at Janet. "Obviously you're a doctor of some kind; do you have any idea how long my amnesia might last?"

She sighed and folded her arms cross her chest. "I was a field medic in the Air Force. Desert Storm. I can do a decent job of sewing you up, but I'm not trained for soft head trauma like this. "You could see or hear something in the next ten minutes that jogs your memory, and then everything will slip back into place, or you could go the rest of your life never knowing your last name, much less anything else about who you are or why someone wants to kill you."

Daniel nodded; that's what he'd surmised, too. He looked up at Jack, who just sat watching him warily. "I know I don't have any right to ask you this," Daniel started slowly.

"No," Jack said darkly. "You don't."

Janet frowned and smacked Jack on the shoulder. "Let him finish," she admonished him. Jack returned her frown with a silent glare of his own, but said nothing.

Janet looked back at Daniel with a smile. "Go ahead, honey."

Daniel's lip twitched, watching the wordless byplay in front of him. Oh, yeah. Subtext. "I think I need to go back to that church; I think all the answers are probably right there."

"So? Go."

_Why was Jack making this so difficult?_ "I also think I'd be safer with you."

"Yeah? And I can't afford to be-"

"-dragged down by hangers on, yes, I know," Daniel snapped. They glared at each other for several long moments, and Daniel broke first. "Thank you for your hospitality, Janet, it's much appreciated." Then he stood to leave, completely forgetting he had no shirt.

He hadn't gotten two steps away from the table when Jack said calmly, "They'll be waiting for you."

Daniel stopped in his tracks. "What?" he asked irritably over his shoulder.

"Whoever wants you dead knows you'll eventually show up at the church," Jack explained patiently. "They're counting on it."

"Then what am I supposed to do, Jack?" Daniel barked, turning and spreading his arms in exasperation. "I've never done this before; obviously, you have. _Help. Me."_

Jack sighed tiredly and walked around the table to face him, trying not to notice the pebbled nipples that decorated the expanse of smooth chest. "I am _so_ gonna regret this..."

Daniel's expression softened. "I'll try not to 'hang on' any longer than necessary," he promised quietly. "Just until I remember who I am and where I belong."

They stared at one another for a long moment, during which a buzzer sounded.

Jack pursed his lips. "Grab your shirt out of the dryer and wait for me downstairs. I gotta hit the head," he said, turning down what Daniel presumed was the bedroom hallway.

Janet retreated into the kitchen and came out with Daniel's shirt, sans bloodstains. He took it from her and slipped it on, buttoning it quickly, glad for the warmth. He reached out for Janet's hand and took it in both of his, bowing a little over them. "Thank you again, Janet, for all your help," he said earnestly.

"You're more than welcome, Daniel," she smiled. "Try and stay safe, huh?" He grinned at her, displaying a sort of dimple-y crease in his left cheek, which she found adorable. She was sure Jack did, too.

"If I can keep Jack from trying to ditch me every twenty minutes, should be a piece of cake," he said wryly. He turned to leave by way of the basement steps, leaving Janet alone to clean up the dishes.

After a few minutes, she felt Jack come up behind her at the sink. "There's something about him, Jack..."

He was rummaging in the dryer for the rest of the clothes, cramming them into his duffel. "Forget it; you're not his type."

She dried her hands and shrugged. "Well, that's a damn shame, but there's something else..."

"What?" Jack demanded. "If you got some woman's intuition thingy, lemme have it."

"It's not anything I can put my finger on." She looked up at him, realizing he was a little grayer at the temples than she remembered. She smiled; they'd had a lot of fun together over the years. "You still afraid of cell phones?"

He grimaced. "I'm not _afraid_ of them," he corrected her firmly, "and if I can ever find a way to disable the GPS they've built into 'em, then I'll get one."

"They're years away from being able to track a cellular call-"

"They don't need it, Jan, the GPS will get 'em within a hundred feet of you. They just don't want the general public to know that," Jack said quietly. "Look, I'll call and check in with ya tomorrow or the next day, okay? If you think of what's niggling at your brain, you can tell me then." He leaned down and enveloped her in his arms and picked her up easily, then gave her a loud smack on the cheek. "Thanks, baby."

"Stay safe, Jack," she whispered against his face.

"You know me!" he winked, setting her back on her feet.

"As strays go, he's kinda cute," she added, a twinkle in her eye.

He frowned at her. "Yeah? I hadn't noticed," he lied.

*****

"So where to now?" Daniel asked, once they were moving again. It seemed like he was always asking Jack the same question.

Jack continued to weave through the residential neighborhood, then the connectors, and then out onto the open highway. "Not the church; not for a couple of days at least. Let's let that place cool off. It'll be daylight soon. I'm thinkin' we stay on Route 25 till we hit New Mexico; chill there a few days, then head back up to Denver and check things out. Sound good to you?"

"Whatever you say, Jack."

*****

"Do you buy new vehicles often?" Daniel asked as they left the small used car dealership in Santa Fe later that same day.

"It's not new; it's a '93, for cryin' out loud."

"You know what I mean."

Jack traded in whatever he'd been driving every time he finished a job, or whenever he started feeling exposed. A vehicle was just another tool to get the job done, but one that could also be used against him. Changing them occasionally was insurance, like starting over, and it was fairly easy to do. Trading one used car for another of similar vintage rarely required more than swapping titles and some modest quantity of out of pocket cash; a small price to pay for peace of mind. There was no way he was going back to Denver, to The Church of the Holy Redeemer, driving the same vehicle he'd been driving that day. No fuckin' way.

"Whenever it's necessary," Jack hedged, "or whenever I get tired of the color. You hungry? Breakfast was a lotta miles ago."

"Nice segue, Bill," Daniel observed wryly as he squinted at Jack. "You don't look like a 'Bill' to me."

"Ah." That's what was on his license, though. One of them, anyway. "Thanks. Burger?"

"Sure. Why not?"

They ate lunch as they drove, putting a sizeable chunk of New Mexico behind them before Jack was willing to stop for the night. He checked them into an old, run-down motel on the outskirts of Socorro, New Mexico, while Daniel waited outside in the black, not-so-new Ford F-150.

"So."

"So?"

"Here we are."

"Daniel, I don't know if I've mentioned it or not, but you are the master of understatement." Jack tossed his duffle onto the chair by the door and fell backward onto the bed with a loud sigh.

"I couldn't help but notice there's um... only one bed."

"You suddenly goin' shy on me?"

"No, but-"

"Look, if you don't wanna do anything other than sleep, that's fine by me, but I'd've had a hard time justifyin' two beds to the toothless desk clerk, when I checked in all by lonesome."

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "Good point."

Jack heaved himself up with some effort. "I'm gonna take a shower, unless you wanna go first."

"No, no. You go. I'll just see if I can find some news on TV."

*****

Daniel found if he stood three paces from the television, facing in the direction of the dresser, with his arms in the air, he got clear enough reception to see. He'd been hoping for some news on the shootings, something that might trigger his memory. Unfortunately, all he could find were reruns of Star Trek, the last few minutes of Saturday Night Fever, and a blazing hot round of Wheel of Fortune.

All he'd remembered clearly so far was a blond woman, about his age with blue eyes. He had no idea what her name was or where he knew her from, but in his mind, he saw her face, split with a huge grin that revealed perfect, white teeth, laughing until her eyes filled and her nose crinkled. It seemed they were probably good friends, but he didn't get the feeling they'd ever been physically close in the same way he and Jack were. He still had no distinct memories of any particular male faces.

Jack had told him he'd come up from the basement when he heard the screaming in the sanctuary. What would he have been doing down there? What was in the basement of Catholic churches? Damned if he knew. He tried to remember if his parents had ever taken him to church. Again, he tried to remember his parents at all, his siblings, anything about growing up. But it seemed the harder he pushed, the more rigidly his brain refused to budge.

Just then, Jack came out of the bathroom wearing new black jeans, but no shirt, a towel around his neck to catch the drips from his hair. "You're up next. Watch the showerhead, it's kinda loose," he warned.

"Really?" Daniel asked, his frustration with the television and his memory making him snarky. "In this four star hotel? I find that hard to believe."

As Daniel disappeared into the tiny bathroom, Jack looked around the small room. He'd stayed in a lot worse in his time. After all, he hadn't even seen any roaches yet. Jack figured they'd check out in the morning and move on south a couple of towns, getting a different room each night, then see where they ended up. He was hoping Daniel would remember something before they headed back up to Denver. He hated the thought of going in blind.

He shut off the irritating buzz of the static-y TV. Rummaging through his duffel for the first aid kit and the extra clothes Janet had given him, he tossed the clothes onto the dresser next to the TV and set the first aid kit on the counter near the sink in the dressing area. He went back and plopped down heavily on the end of the bed, trying to figure out what his next move should be.

He'd botched an assignment for the first time ever, and he'd known the moment he hadn't been able to pull the trigger that his life was over. In the space of half a heartbeat, he'd chosen the subject's life over his own, and now there was no going back. He didn't even know if it'd mattered in the end, or if they'd sent someone else to do what Jack hadn't been able to bring himself to do. The subject was probably dead anyway.

Afterward, he'd driven for a long time as he came to his decision, then picked out a church at random. It was the first time he'd stepped into a place of worship since his wedding day. He'd only wanted ten minutes of not having to look over his shoulder to get his thoughts in order. Just a few minutes of peace and quiet to say goodbye, and then he'd planned to just walk out the front door into whatever awaited him, minutes, hours, certainly no more than a day later. The Agency was nothing, if not efficient.

But then Daniel had happened, and all hell had broken loose.

It'd been two days since the job, plenty of time for Hammond to send another agent to take him out and solve the Agency's problem. But so far, nothing. True, during that time, Jack'd been more concerned with Daniel's problems than his own. That, and his spectacular ass, of course. Maybe Jack had acquired a tail after all -an uncharacteristically patient one- and had just been too horny and distracted to notice.

He told himself he was doing a good deed by helping Daniel, a way of evening up his moral balance sheet a little bit. He tried to convince himself he'd be doing it even if Daniel weren't... the only word he could come up with was 'beautiful', which Jack strongly suspected Daniel would loudly object to. And Jack didn't think he was actually all that altruistic anyway...

Daniel took his time showering, half suspecting that by the time he came out of the shower, Jack would be gone, just like last time. As he shampooed his hair, gingerly avoiding the gauze patch still adhered to his temple, he tried again to bring back some memory older than yesterday. He thought about Janet saying he might never get his memory back and wondered what the hell he'd do if it came down to that.

He'd managed to convince Jack to help him temporarily, but they'd been thrown together by chance, and Jack certainly had no responsibility to him at all. As frightening as it was to think about, Jack was all Daniel knew, and if Jack left him on his own, Daniel would have nothing; nowhere to go. As he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, Daniel thought how odd it was to be so utterly reliant on an apparent killer for his very survival. And he wondered why he'd been able to trust Jack so easily.

As Daniel rubbed the small bar of motel soap into a lather and cleaned his body, he thought about fate and chance and destiny. He had no recollection of his past, and no idea what was ahead for him, but he knew he and Jack were tied together somehow. In the church, he'd trusted Jack on sight. He'd had sex with Jack within hours of meeting him, and he'd followed every order Jack had given him thus far, not without challenge, but without question.

Jack had told him Daniel had taken the bullet meant for him, and that was why Jack was helping him. Daniel didn't remember doing that, but then he didn't remember much of anything useful right now. He did remember how Jack's hands felt sliding up his sides last night, and how he'd shattered when Jack had finally made him come, though. Those seemed like pretty nice memories, if not terribly useful ones.

By the time Daniel was finished showering and remembering, he had started to get hard. He took a few experimental pulls on his dick, but stopped, thinking he'd much rather feel Jack's hands on him; maybe his mouth this time.

Daniel stepped out of the small shower and dried himself off on the only towel in the bathroom, realizing just then that he had no clean clothes to change into. He wrapped the now damp, scratchy towel around his middle, cursing cheap motels that used what amounted to large hand towels in place of regular-sized bath towels. Tucking the end of it into the waist, it barely covered him around, and did exactly nothing to hide his filling cock.

Thinking that 'modest' was not only a waste of time, but impossible to achieve in his current state anyway, Daniel stepped out of the steamy bathroom into the cooler dressing area and bedroom. He saw Jack's head turn toward him, then watched Jack's gaze drop instantly to the obvious bulge of his dick. It made Daniel even harder, knowing Jack was looking at him there.

Jack cleared his throat and with some difficulty, dragged his eyes back up to Daniel's face. "Janet said I was supposed to change the bandage to keep it dry," he said neutrally.

Daniel smiled a little, reached up to his forehead, and nodded. "I tried to be careful, but yeah, it's wet."

Jack motioned toward the countertop behind Daniel where the kit sat open, then got up to join him there. "She also sent some clothes for you."

"She did?" Daniel asked, coming to stand very close to Jack next to the counter.

"Yeah," Jack said softly, trying not to notice that Daniel's skin was scrubbed pink and there were water droplets sprinkled across his shoulders from his dripping hair. And that he smelled a little perfumy, like the cheap motel soap. "They, ah, belonged to her husband."

"You?" Daniel asked, immediately regretting it.

Jack smirked. "No. Janet's a war buddy."

"I see."

"No, ya don't."

"No. I probably don't."

Their eyes met occasionally as Jack removed Daniel's glasses, setting them on the counter, then took the towel from around his own neck, gently dried the hair around Daniel's left temple, and proceeded to remove the old bandage.

Daniel stood very still and watched Jack work on him, thinking it odd that a killer should have such gentle hands. "So you're a bodyguard and a medic all in one," he noted softly.

Jack shrugged. "You pick up skills along the way," he replied obliquely. "You're done," he pronounced a minute later.

"Jack..."

"Yeah?" his voice was strangely deep and gravelly, Jack noticed, but he keep his eyes on the medical supplies as he finished gathering them all back into the kit.

Daniel reached out and cupped Jack's cheek, forcing Jack to look at him with nothing but the gentle warmth of his hand. "You goin' all shy on _me?"_ he teased gently.

Jack met his eyes briefly, then looked away. "I don't want you to think that's why I'm doing this," he said tightly, "why I'm helping you." He walked away with some difficulty and stowed the kit in the duffle, his back kept carefully to the nearly naked man.

"Why _are_ you helping me?" Daniel asked, coming to stand behind Jack near the bed.

Jack sighed and his chin dipped to his chest. "Well, that's not the only reason..." he muttered.

Daniel smiled self-consciously. "That's good. I was afraid last night wasn't any-"

Jack turned then. "No, it was fine," he assured Daniel. "More than fine. It was-"

"Good?"

"Yeah. Real good."

"Okay," Daniel said. "You wanna um... do it again?"

"Yeah, I do," Jack replied honestly, as if a weight of doubt had been lifted. "I _really_ do, but only if you-"

"I do," Daniel said quickly, taking the towel off, revealing a nearly full erection. "See?"

Jack let himself look then, since he'd been invited to, and smiled as he closed the distance between them. "Are we in a hurry this time?" he asked breathlessly as he ran his fingers through Daniel's still-damp hair.

"I'll have to defer to you on that," Daniel replied, letting his eyes close as he enjoyed being petted, "since all this cloak and dagger stuff is new to me."

"Sweet," Jack murmured with a little smile. He took Daniel into his arms and pulled him close, feeling the heat of his body even through the stiff denim of his own jeans, an interesting counterpoint to the fact that both their chests were naked and now happily brushing against each other.

They kissed for the first time, gently, slowly, feeling their way, breathing each other in, enjoying the gentle touching and sexual contact instead of mere blind rutting.

When the kiss ended, Daniel pulled away, blinking. "That was..."

"Good, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," he confirmed, hands stroking up and down Jack's arms just to keep up the skin contact. "It's not anything I remember, like this..."

"You remember something?" Jack asked. He told himself it was because what they were doing was bound to be triggering some important memories, and not because he was worried about unfavorable comparisons with any of Daniel's previous companions.

"My body remembers having sex before," Daniel clarified softly. "But not slow and gentle and..." He struggled to find a word - _loving_ came immediately to mind- "um, _careful,_ like this."

Jack nuzzled his face against Daniel's stubbly cheek and whispered, "You gonna let me show you some things this time?"

Daniel swallowed hard. "Um, yeah. Sure." Eyes closed, head tilted back to give Jack more room, he added, "I can be a very good student."

Jack pulled back a little and dropped his jeans, then stepped out of them and pulled Daniel close. They kissed again, both fully naked and hard, then moved onto the bed in a tangle of hard dicks and hairy legs. In no hurry to get to the big event, Jack spent a lot of time raining kisses and nibbles onto Daniel's face and neck, paying special attention to his Adam's apple and collarbone and listening to the tiny sounds he was making. Jack could feel pre-come, he wasn't sure whose, as it trailed cool along warm, sensitized skin.

It felt so good for Jack to hold someone again, to be close, and to enjoy making love together, making someone else feel good. Completely different from the majority of his own sex life during the last five years, which had consisted of hurried encounters, often of the paid variety, with nameless men and women, where the less that touched on the way to climax the better. Little more than an elaborate, expensive jerk-off session. The last time Jack had been able to give of himself freely this way...

He stopped suddenly, breathless in his continuing oral exploration of his companion's body, remembering how that had ended three years ago; bad intel from a questionable source, and Kawalsky had died in his arms...

Jack sternly reminded himself that this couldn't be like that. Daniel was attractive, even beautiful, but not his, and he never would be. It was safer _not_ to be. Jack's job, his life, simply didn't allow for that kind of personal involvement with anyone ever again; history had proven that. And that was _before_ he'd had a price on his head.

All they had was this, these few days, and then Daniel would go back to whatever life he'd had before the church incident, and Jack would be alone again, until they caught up with him and finally ended it. Jack realized he didn't want that anymore, but he wasn't sure how to get out of the bad place his refusal to follow orders had put him.

"What's the matter?" Daniel asked quietly as he stroked Jack's shoulder. "You okay?"

Jack pulled himself out of his musings and moved in for another deep kiss, as if nothing were wrong. Daniel didn't need to be bothered with any of this crap. "Just enjoying the journey," he replied softly.

"Bodyguard, medic, _and_ philosopher? Is there no end to your talents?" Daniel smiled, his arms around Jack's broad shoulders, fingers trailing down his back. "Should I be taking notes?"

"Unless you can think of something more useful to do with your hands, smart ass," Jack replied with an arched brow. He moved down Daniel's chest, stopping to lavish Daniel's left nipple with generous licks from the flat of his tongue, eliciting a lot of mewling and writhing from his partner. He felt Daniel's hands on his head, fingers carding through his hair, nails grazing his scalp, and all of it causing delicious frissons of pleasure across the backs of Jack's thighs which then traveled conveniently up the crack of his ass and then back down to his dick. Jack moaned a little, feeling Daniel arching underneath him in response to the sound of Jack's enjoyment.

Jack smiled and moved to the neglected right nipple and took turns lapping at it and then skimming his teeth across it, listening to Daniel's tiny gasps of pleasure.

"Jaaaack..." Daniel groaned impatiently, nudging him with his hip.

"The journey, Daniel," Jack reminded him gently. "Remember the journey..."

"Prick tease."

Jack hummed unconcernedly as he made his way down the smooth belly before him. He slid his arms behind Daniel's waist and pulled him close, feeling Daniel arching his back more deeply as he followed Jack's lead. Jack decided Daniel owned the sexiest navel he'd ever seen, and circled it several times with his tongue before he finally let himself dive into it with complete abandon.

Daniel emitted a snort of surprise, and Jack smiled, thinking perhaps he was covering new territory, somewhere no one had ever loved Daniel before, and although that was a shame, he let himself feel smug, in case he really was first. Daniel kept arching his back, eager to keep his body and Jack's mouth in close proximity.

"Jack..."

"Hmmm?"

"Please..."

The way Jack's heart clenched whenever Daniel said that word _that way_ was indescribable. It pushed every 'protective' button Jack had ever had; the sound of the plea crushed Jack's soul into tiny bits. It spurred him on, reminding him he'd taken responsibility for Daniel's safety, his well being, and now his pleasure. Keeping Daniel safe and giving him gratification was something Jack could do; he wanted to do that more than anything. In a tiny corner of his brain, Jack probably even understood that somewhere along the way, what was between them had passed from a convenient sexual arrangement into something deeper and more personal. Something far more dangerous.

And if Jack hadn't been so horrifically turned on already, if he'd had a single working brain cell, he'd've stopped what he was doing and called a halt to the entire thing. Nothing good was going to come of getting too attached to this man. Or any more attached than he already was.

Daniel's dick, rigid and weeping, was nudging Jack in the shoulder, and he could ignore it no longer, the scent of the pre-come was calling him. He held Daniel's cock in his palm, warm and heavy and still mostly hooded, and swiped his tongue across the barely-exposed slit, gathering all the sweetness and savoring it. He buried his face into Daniel's groin and inhaled his musk in huge, ragged lungfuls, needing to take in as much as there was, while Daniel cooed gratefully in the background.

Finally, he took Daniel's dick in his mouth and started working the hood back with his tongue. As the foreskin slipped out of the way, new, freshly bared areas of the shaft were revealed, super-sensitive and already moist and begging to be licked and adored. Jack attacked his task with gusto.

As his dick slid effortlessly into Jack's mouth, Daniel's shoulders came off the bed. Jack wrapped both arms around the small of Daniel's back, and they curled in tight, Daniel wrapping his arms around Jack's shoulders as they writhed together on the lumpy bed, Jack's face pressed snugly into the curve of Daniel's lap.

"Unnngh," Daniel grunted, unknowingly thrusting into the warmth, unable to keep himself from doing so. He felt his balls moving, tightening, as his climax began to coalesce. It seemed like the sensations were stalled at a terribly delicious peak, neither progressing nor waning as Jack continued to manipulate his cock with nothing more than his talented lips and tongue. It was wonderful to the point of near pain, and Daniel was certain he'd never been the object of this much adoration before.

"Jack," Daniel panted, frantically grasping at Jack's back, "dear God in heaven, _please..."_

Spurred on by the entreaty that owned his soul, Jack flattened his tongue and began to caress the bottom of Daniel's dick in long, steady strokes. He circled the head on each third time around, urging Daniel forward toward completion instead of simply tantalizing him with an orgasm kept just out of his reach. He held Daniel tight as he lay grunting, groaning, trying to squirm away from the too-strong sensations, trying to make them _commit._

But Jack held onto Daniel firmly, continuing to work the cock in his mouth, and soon, Daniel climaxed in staccato spasms, accompanied by gusting breaths of air panted against Jack's shoulders, _"Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh,"_ as he filled Jack's mouth with his seed. Jack swallowed it all, every bit, wanting more, then continued to use his tongue to clean Daniel's cock as it began to soften in his mouth. Between the taste and the scent, and the sounds Daniel was making, Jack wasn't sure how he'd kept himself from coming.

Daniel lay back on the bed, eyes closed, panting, boneless. He didn't bother to try to open his eyes even as Jack began to move up his body. He'd had blowjobs before, he knew that, hurried quickies in the dark, reciprocity mostly, by people -men, he supposed- who were sloppy and rough and in a hurry to get theirs, or who were too tired and lazy from having just gotten theirs to really put anything into it. Never before had he experienced a mind-blowing event such as this. He'd been the sole focus of Jack's efforts; it'd been all about _his_ needs, _his_ pleasure, and now, Daniel understood something else. _Jack cared for him._

Jack had the taste of Daniel on his tongue from one of the most intimate acts two people could ever share, and he was nearly dizzy from it. Uncharacteristically, he'd been making noises, particularly near the end of it, and then once he felt the warm semen splashing against the back of his throat, Jack knew he'd made sounds of gratitude as he'd swallowed the richness of it. He could only hope Daniel had been so far out of it he hadn't noticed Jack's weakness.

He continued working his way up Daniel's body, kissing his belly as it rose and fell languidly with each breath he took. Jack mouthed Daniel's hipbone, his ribs, then continued upward, snuffling under Daniel's arm, the scent of him warm and already familiar to Jack.

Jack looked up at Daniel's face and smiled. "And what did you think of part one?" he asked smugly.

Daniel let out a sound like a cross between a sigh and a whimper, but didn't move.

Jack moved up closer to Daniel's ear. "No. Sleeping."

Daniel groaned and patted Jack on the head with one limp hand. "Fuck you, Jack," he said warmly, never opening his eyes.

"Oh, no ya don't, there's more to come. So to speak. C'mere." Jack tightened his hold on Daniel and rolled, leaving Daniel on top, then pushed up on him till Daniel was sitting up mostly straight as he straddled Jack's hips. "You're heavier than ya look," Jack bitched under his breath.

"Jack," Daniel complained sleepily, looking down at Jack like he was crazy as he steadied himself with a hand planted on either side of Jack's head. "I'm wiped out. You've sucked my brains out through my dick, and I'm just ready to sleep. Can't we do the rest later?"

But Jack wasn't buying it. "Lift up some," he ordered. "This'll work better while you're still hummin'." Daniel sighed as he did as Jack requested, raising up a little as he knelt astride him. Jack lifted Daniel's sac and arranged it so that it was draped across Jack's rigid cock, which was lined up underneath Daniel's balls along the trough of his perineum. "Now, sit down."

Daniel looked dubious, but complied with Jack's strange request. "Oh," he exclaimed in surprise, once he understood the arrangement. Then he experimented with angles, tilting his hips first left, then right, pressing Jack's rigid dick against his perineum; not something he remembered ever doing before. He rocked backward a little so he could rub his hole across the base of Jack's dick at the same time. It all fit perfectly, and Jack was right, with his orgasm so recent, these actions felt like they were prolonging the effect. _"Ohhhh..."_

Jack smiled. His arousal was tempered by his amusement at the way Daniel was playing. He was getting into it, seeing all the different ways there were for two people to enjoy each other sexually, ways he'd apparently never had any exposure to before. And Jack was unrepentantly pleased to be the one to introduce him to all of it.

Jack let his hands gently caress Daniel's lightly-furred thighs as the other man sat astride him, rocking gently back and forth, his head canted to the left like he was listening to something only he could hear. Jack catalogued each of Daniel's facial features as he started to bliss-out again. After a time, he laid one hand atop Daniel's firming cock, making a kind of pocket for Daniel to thrust it into as it rhythmically glided across his belly every time Daniel rocked against him.

"Like that?" Jack asked, already knowing the answer.

Daniel smirked a little. "It's this weird tingling, but yeah, especially..." he ground down a little bit, "especially like that."

"You can do that harder if you want."

"Won't it-?"

"Nope."

So Daniel ground down harder, sliding back and forth along Jack's cock, stimulating all of his parts himself, watching Jack's eyes, watching Jack watch him. Daniel leaned down some, until their chests were touching, which pretty much called a halt to the cool stroking, but once Jack's arms came around him, and he felt Jack's hands on the back of his head, in his hair, keeping the kiss going, Daniel knew. _I care for him as well..._

He wanted Jack inside him. That was all that was missing-- that connection, that intimacy. Daniel'd never thought of it like that before, he knew that, too. Letting someone put his cock inside you was a way of getting the bang, but nothing more. That's all it'd ever been for him.

But it was more now; it was more with Jack.

"Where's the lube?" Daniel asked, surprised by how deep and resonant his own voice suddenly sounded.

But Jack was shaking his head. "Too rough yesterday, too soon. You can bring us both off this way."

"No. I want it with you inside me."

"Daniel-"

"Jack, _please..."_ He honestly hadn't known before he said it; it would never had occurred to him that something so simple could be so powerful. But when Daniel saw the way those words affected Jack, he was absolutely sure. _Jack was in love with him._

Jack lost the argument about the lube without another word spoken, and somehow knew it was the first of many such arguments he would lose to this man. "Duffle."

Daniel retrieved the lube and a condom and then climbed back onto the bed, solemnly offering the bottle to Jack. "I know you well enough, now," he said simply.

And what the hell was Jack supposed to say to that? He watched Daniel's expression as he kissed the tip of his cock and then swiftly rolled the condom onto it. How could this be the same man who'd almost angrily demanded to be fucked the night before?

Jack rolled them once more and slicked up two of his own fingers, then took Daniel's cock into his mouth again as he gently entered Daniel's body with them. Feeling Daniel's hole clenching around his fingers seemed so much more personal and intimate than just fucking him. Knowing that Daniel didn't let just _anybody_ do this, and now, suddenly, Jack was _somebody_... he felt honored, privileged, impossibly turned on.

Daniel's dick was happy in Jack's mouth; warm, comfortable, and it more than made up for the minor irritation in his ass from the night before. "Oh, yes, Jack..." he moaned. "Yes, yes, yes..."

Daniel was hard and leaking again, and for Jack, the taste of his pre-come was like coming home. Jack took his time preparing Daniel gently, thoroughly, finding his prostate easily, and all the while, Daniel was urging him on, making sounds of surprise and arousal, making Jack want to please him, to give him everything.

Jack reverently stroked the tiny gland inside Daniel, watching his body open and tighten against the sensations he was causing. Jack felt powerful. Humbled.

When it was time, when Jack had no more patience with foreplay, when he couldn't think anymore, and he simply had to _possess_ Daniel, he took him with one smooth glide in and then held there deeply inside him for one perfect moment as Daniel's legs came around him. Jack deliberately let go of the stranglehold he had on his emotions and allowed himself to believe the impossible, telling himself it was _just this once, just for a minute,_ and then he'd snap out of it.

Jack let himself believe Daniel was his to keep, and he made love to him with every bit of his soul.

*****

They lay together afterwards, two men who were both used to sleeping alone, holding onto one another for dear life. Jack on his back, Daniel's head pillowed on his chest, completely encircled by the warmth of strong arms. Jack'd seen the look cross Daniel's face when Jack was sheathed deeply inside him; they both knew now. The best Jack could hope for was that Daniel would have the good manners not to actually say it out loud.

"Jack..."

"Damn it, Daniel," he cursed under his breath, "there's already been too much talking tonight. Can't we just sleep?"

Daniel leaned up on one elbow and watched Jack's face till Jack surrendered and met his eyes in the dim light from the motel sign outside.

There was no talking, thank god, but Daniel's expression -lips pursed with gentle annoyance, 'yeah, tell me another one'- said everything Jack had wanted to avoid anyway. Some kind of exchange of trust had occurred, a co-mingling of the sort that Jack had thought he'd never see again. It made him feel both warm and terrified inside.

Daniel lay back down, sighing in contentment as Jack's arm came around him again. Something had happened tonight, something important, and Daniel was filled with a strange sense of peace, maybe even belonging. He didn't think he'd ever felt this close to another human being in his life. It was starting to matter less and less what his life had been before, because this new life was starting to feel pretty damn good.

They lay together without talking for a little while, enjoying the unaccustomed closeness, then Daniel roused Jack before his breathing had started to even out into sleep. They cleaned up a bit, then fell back into bed and into an exhausted slumber, holding each other once again.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, Jack awoke to Daniel kissing his chest, mouthing his nipples, and the novelty of waking up next to someone along with the memory of their recent sex had him aroused and hard almost immediately.

Daniel moved his lips against the soft fur between Jack's pecs. "Jack, I need..." he breathed.

_Anything, Daniel..._ Jack cupped Daniel's neck, his fingers tangling in his hair. He could _so_ get used to this... "What? Tell me what you need."

Daniel threw back the covers and turned to take Jack's dick into his mouth, mewling and whimpering with urgency as he began to devour it.

"Jesus _fuck!"_ Jack exclaimed, his spine arching as Daniel sucked him all the way in, nose buried deep in Jack's balls. The sensations were strong almost immediately. Daniel was laving and suckling like he was starving for it, and Jack had to fight the instinct to thrust his hips. He managed to roll onto his side and pull one of Daniel's thighs over his head. Not the most graceful sixty-nine he'd ever been involved in, but having something to do was definitely going to help him have a little more staying power in the face of all this tortuous stimulation.

Eager mouths sucking, licking, teeth scraping, sounds of wet, muted joy filled the room. Daniel lifted his head up a little. "Don't make me come yet," he begged, his voice edged with tension.

"If you're waiting for me-"

"NO! Don't come yet," Daniel ordered urgently, as he absently kneaded the inside of Jack's thighs, thumbs digging into the creases of his legs. "Wanna be like this together for as long as we can, sucking each other off," he explained, rubbing his face all over Jack's wet genitals. "I don't think I've ever done it this way, at the same time with someone," he explained, breathlessly inhaling Jack's scent. "God, I love this. _So much."_

Daniel dove forward a little, bringing his dick out of sucking range to slap wetly against Jack's chest, striving to get his own lips closer and closer to Jack's ass. He pushed Jack's thighs apart and sucked one testicle into his mouth, feeling Jack squeeze his ass cheeks as he hissed his enjoyment. Jack's scent was stronger here, and it stirred something deep inside Daniel, driving him, pushing him forward, making him bold.

He released his mouthful at the same time as he yanked Jack's thighs back, his lips finally reaching their target. There was no thought any longer; just his blind need to take Jack this way.

Jack felt his balls being sucked and licked, and he turned his head to lick Daniel's lightly-furred thigh, since that's all he could reach, and he had to lick something, had to have that connection. He couldn't remember the last time someone had rimmed him; it wasn't something that was usually offered in casual hook-ups, and not a menu item he'd ever felt comfortable asking for in paid situations. But having Daniel's head between his legs right now, his mouth just _there,_ his tongue-

Jack was rocked suddenly back onto his shoulders as Daniel continued to struggle for a position he was happy with. Jack heard the sound, and it was a moment before he realized what it was. _Daniel was growling._ His arms were locked around the small of Jack's back and he'd lifted up on his hips to get a more direct approach to what he wanted.

Jack could feel his balls being nudged out of the way by Daniel's stubbly chin, Jack's cock squashed between them and then a tongue _-oh, god, a tongue-_ digging into his hole, lapping and drilling and forcing him open.

Jack lay completely splayed out, in blind wonder as Daniel began to tongue him in that personal place. He canted his hips up helpfully, aware he was begging even without speaking, and made tiny sounds of pleasure and need as he clutched Daniel's ass while Daniel rimmed him eagerly and noisily.

Jack didn't usually bottom, had done so with only one person in his life, but Daniel's needy tongue-fucking was making Jack remember the unique pleasure of submitting, of opening his body, of letting go. Daniel's mounting enthusiasm for this intimate activity was putting Jack in a very 'surrendering' kind of place.

The sensations were gathering dangerously as Daniel continued to eat his ass, and Jack had the presence of mind to dig between them to grasp his dick tightly through his balls to try to halt the impending orgasm before he came. He knew that would only buy him seconds, though.

"Daniel, I have to come," Jack bit off, almost regretfully. But the tongue squirming around in his ass was too delicious to ignore for much longer, the deep, probing intimacy of it, touching, pushing, insinuating. "Oh, _god!"_ he gasped. Owning him.

With a final growl and a not-so-gentle nip of Jack's nearby ass cheek, Daniel panted, "Me too," and lowered Jack's hips back to the bed, as he slid back into position. They resumed their noisy suckling, each of them clutching the other close as they each raced to finish. Without warning, Daniel slipped one slender finger into Jack's already slippery ass, aiming for his gland.

When Daniel's finger connected with his prostate, Jack's dick exploded. He felt Daniel's throat clench as he greedily swallowed Jack's come, and Jack reflexively suckled harder on the flesh in his own mouth, finally triggering Daniel's orgasm, too. Two men, curled into a human knot of need and sensation, giving each other pleasure, drinking each other down.

*****

The next time they awoke, there was less talking.

"Jack?" Daniel whispered.

Jack heard the need in Daniel's voice in the bed next to him, and somehow knew its basis wasn't sexual this time. He turned onto his side curling around him, taking Daniel into his arms. "I'm here," he said softly.

Jack's heart overflowed as the other man settled backward against his chest, stubbly cheek pillowed on Jack's bicep, ass nesting perfectly into Jack's groin. Daniel sighed deeply once and then fell instantly back to sleep.

Jack settled behind him, breathing in Daniel's scent from his silky hair. He knew his arm was gonna be dead by morning, but it felt so good to hold Daniel close like this, he didn't care. He closed his eyes and savored the moment.

For the first time, Jack let himself think the word. _Lover._

*****

The next morning, Daniel used Jack's razor without bothering to ask.

Jack came out of the bathroom to find Daniel standing over the sink bare-chested, rinsing away the bits of leftover lather from his face. For some stupid reason, the familiarity and presumption of that act alone made Jack instantly hard. He came up behind Daniel, encircling him with his arms and pushing his hips against Daniel's backside. Jack nosed his way into Daniel's ear through the hair and then mouthed the now smooth cheek beside it as Daniel finished drying off his face.

"Can we talk?" Daniel sighed contentedly.

"Uh-uh. Talking's overrated."

Daniel turned inside Jack's embrace, hanging his arms loosely around Jack's bare neck. He looked deeply into Jack's eyes and kissed him with minty thoroughness, bumping his groin against Jack's. His eyes twinkling, Daniel reported, "I used your toothbrush, too."

Jack winced, shaking his head. "Of _course_ you did..."

Daniel smiled at Jack's obvious discomfort and decided to rub it in. "I had my tongue in your ass, Jack; am I afraid of what's in your mouth?"

"Evidently not," Jack smirked. "You gonna let me eat you out tonight?"

It was more talking than Daniel had expected and had achieved the same outcome. Jack wasn't denying the intimacy Daniel felt as a result of what they'd done, and there would be a 'tonight'. "Oh, most definitely," he smiled.

They dressed, Jack in his own clothes, and Daniel in Janet's husband's things, which mostly fit, and then left the room several minutes apart. They drove a ways into Socorro, stopping at a drug store to pick up a hair brush for Daniel, more lube, and a couple of new toothbrushes, and then found a greasy spoon for breakfast. Throughout it all, Jack felt warm and protective inside, his brain busy concocting a crazy plan where they could both disappear and make a life together. He tried hard not to let any of this show in his manner toward Daniel, but it didn't matter; Daniel _knew,_ the smug little shit.

They ordered their food, and while they waited for it to be delivered, Daniel realized by carefully listening to the wait staff as they moved around and spoke with each other, that he knew both South American Spanish and Portuguese. This fact, while amusing, jogged no particular memories and shed no light on his previous life. But it did get him thinking about the kinds of work he might be qualified for in the future.

After breakfast, Jack had Daniel wait in the truck while he made a quick call to Janet from a payphone at a gas station across the street. It would be short, impossible to trace, and then they'd be on their way. Jack had funds stashed many places, and he knew people who could get them new identities and out of the country. Jack thought the Mediterranean might be nice this time of year. Life was definitely looking up.

Janet picked up after the second ring.

"Hey, beautiful!"

"They're looking for him; find a TV," Janet said sharply. The line went dead.

Jack's expression hardened instantly, heart pounding and mind racing as he hung up the phone. With those few words, Jack knew his brief, spectacular happiness had just been utterly shattered, and he wasn't even sure why yet.

It'd been naïve to think someone hadn't missed Daniel by now; that someone wouldn't want him back. It was equally naïve to think Daniel would choose a life on the run with Jack when he could have something that probably approached 'normal'. With forced calm, he dialed information to see if there was a Sears in Socorro.

Returning to the truck as if nothing were wrong, Jack told Daniel they needed to find him some clothes that fit; it wasn't really a lie. They drove for about thirty minutes till they found the mall with the Sears at one end of the sprawling complex. It was early afternoon on a Tuesday, so the place wasn't well staffed and not terribly busy.

Jack kept watch casually while Daniel picked out some things to try on, then left him with strict instructions to stay in the dressing room until Jack came for him. The electronics department was within sight of where Daniel would be, and Jack hurried there to commandeer one of the sets, hurriedly changing the channels to find one that would give him what he needed.

He happened on CNN Headline News fairly quickly and waited impatiently for the stories to cycle around through all the other crap he didn't care about, his gaze flickering from the screen to make a wide sweep of the area, to the dressing room door, and back again.

He heard 'downtown Denver', and his attention was immediately riveted to the screen in front of him. Images of the church, followed by talking heads of various passersby and parishioners, the local investigators, and then a church guy.

"It's got us all very worried, Gary," the older cleric was saying seriously to the reporter, "but we're praying to the Lord Almighty that Father Daniel will find his way home to us somehow. That whoever kidnapped him will let him go without harm." He continued to prattle on as he stared earnestly into the camera, but Jack had tuned out and just stood, dumfounded, staring at the screen.

Suddenly, Jack felt a presence at his elbow. "I _know_ him..." Daniel breathed, his arms laden with rumpled clothes and loose hangers.

Just then, the screen changed to a photograph of Daniel in his priest suit, clerical collar loudly proclaiming his identity and profession and, Jack thought quickly, the fact they were both now condemned to burn in hell for all eternity. He watched Daniel's jaw drop as the truth of it sank in.

"Will you _ever_ follow orders?" he asked sadly. _If he'd only stayed in the damned dressing room..._ Jack grabbed the clothes out of Daniel's arms, cramming them in between two of the TV sets, and casually hustled him out of the store, quietly instructing him under his breath to keep his head down, to let his hair hide his face.

As they hurried with all deliberate casualness out to the parking lot, Jack's mind was reeling. He knew certain kinds of clergy could be married and have a sex life-- Protestants probably, Jews maybe. He was pretty sure none of them were allowed to be actively gay, though. He knew Daniel could be in a lot of trouble for what they'd done together the past two days.

They got into the truck and left the mall empty-handed, but weighed down with more guilt than you could shake a stick at. Daniel stared out the window, and Jack just drove east, making an effort to quell the shaking of his insides.

After nearly twenty minutes of driving in silence, during which time all Jack could seem to think about was the slight case of beard burn on his thighs from the previous night's rim job, he broke the quiet. "I think I'm doing a pretty fine job of not freakin' out here," he said amicably. "Wouldn't ya say?"

Daniel turned to look at Jack for the first time since they'd left the store. "What?"

"I said you're taking this well."

Daniel shrugged and looked back out his window. One second, he'd been thrilled to recognize someone he knew, the next, horrified to see his own picture dressed in a clerical collar as well. Thankfully, he'd gone into some kind of numb state while Jack ushered him out of the store and into the truck, or he'd probably have broken something. He had no idea how long they'd been driving; he was finding it difficult to care about much of anything at the moment.

"Well, I'm hosed, anyway you look at it, " Daniel replied sarcastically. "But in a way, it's convenient, too. I can probably grant you absolution for doing me, but as far as the Pope's concerned, you're goin' to hell for being gay anyway, so it's probably all just a wash."

Jack stole glances at his passenger _-his lover was a priest-_ but kept driving, determined to keep his cool. "So... none of this bothers you then?"

"Of course it bothers me," Daniel snapped. Janet had been right - seeing that picture of himself had brought everything tumbling back all at once. He wanted to hit something.

"I've spent the last twelve years of my _life_ working to become a priest, and in the space of two days, I've destroyed both my future _and_ my soul. So yeah, I think it's safe to say it _bothers_ me."

It had all started rushing back the moment he'd seen his photograph on the screen. The Reverend Doctor Daniel Jackson, aged thirty-four, holder of two doctorates, Linguistics and Theology, and three masters, Archeology, Philosophy and Arts in Ministry. Parochial Vicar of the Church of the Holy Redeemer in Denver. Saying daily mass in Spanish and performing the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation in many other languages by appointment.

They'd never covered the subject of falling from grace -especially this spectacularly- very deeply in the seminary; there didn't seem to be a real need to. The burning in eternal Hell was a given, but Daniel was sure there was probably a good deal of Papal paperwork first. He could hardly wait.

"Talk to me," Jack said softly.

"What about?" Daniel snorted, crossing his arms. "What do you need to know that that photograph didn't make very clear?"

"How about what do ya wanna do for starters?"

Daniel huffed again and waved his arm toward the windshield. "Pull over at the next seedy motel you see, and let's fuck some more," he suggested angrily. Tears of angry frustration prickled the backs of his eyeballs. "No reason not to. In for a penny and all that."

He knew he'd never be able to sit in a confessional and ask for absolution for what he and Jack had done, any more than he could find it in his heart to repent for having done it.

"Look," Jack snapped, "I'm sorry! What do ya want me to say?"

"Nothing," Daniel bit off, trying to get his misdirected anger back under control. _How could he possibly have forgotten his whole life?_ "It's not your fault. You didn't know."

"Then it's not _your_ fault either," Jack insisted. "Cut yourself a little slack."

"Yeah," Daniel snorted, "that's gonna go over so well with the Bishop; I can see it now. 'I'm really sorry, Your Excellency, but I forgot my vows for a few days and then hooked up with this stranger -who, as it happens, is male and kills people for a living- and then we fucked our brains out for two days straight. And oh, by the way, I really loved having his great big dick up my ass.' Yeah, Jack, that's gonna go over _real_ well."

Somehow, hearing those kinds of words streaming angrily out of a priest's mouth made Jack's gut hurt. "You were injured," Jack insisted. "Sick. You didn't remember."

"I can't ever have my parish back," Daniel muttered mostly to himself, "I've broken nearly all my vows, let everyone down-"

"Then what's to go back for?"

_"What?"_

Jack took a deep breath and rephrased the question carefully as they continued down the highway. He'd about decided anyway, before the damned TV thing, so he threw it out there, his heart pounding as he waited to see if last night had meant as much to Daniel as it had to him. "If you can't go back to your old life, then start a new one."

"What are you _talking_ about? I _have_ to go back to accept my punishment!" Daniel yelled. Jack was wrong; he wasn't taking this well at all. This was so much more upsetting than just having amnesia. In fact, amnesia had been a blessing compared to this. Once again, fate had ripped everything away from him, leaving him with nothing; he couldn't have his church, he couldn't have Jack. _Less than nothing._

He'd fallen for Jack's smoldering, dangerous sexuality almost instantly and had opened his body eagerly. Daniel supposed that could be explained by the long years of abstinence, and the amnesia had provided the lack of consequences in one very neat and needy package.

Then last night, he'd let himself respond to the gentleness and caring Jack hadn't wanted him to see, desperate for the affection and belonging that had been missing from most of his life. He'd felt the changes between them the night before, at the motel, changes that hadn't needed words. He'd felt powerful, eating Jack out, and -God help him- he wanted to do it again. He'd let himself luxuriate in the care and adoration Jack had shown him; in Jack's arms, he'd felt loved and wanted and desired and cared for. He'd felt Jack's need to shelter him and protect him, and Daniel wanted nothing more than to be the object of all that love.

Because that's what it was, regardless of whether or not either of them was willing to give it a label. Daniel had let himself start to think about what it would be like to have a life with Jack. Together every night, every morning, never being alone again.

And now all of that was clearly over. "They'll need the Cardinal's okay to start a laicization action..." he mused softly.

"Laicization?"

Daniel considered for a moment the most concise way of putting it. "It's where they strip me of the powers of my priestly office. Kinda like a court martial, I guess."

Jack's jaw clenched. "They don't need you for that," he said coldly.

Daniel shrugged, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, suddenly colder inside than he'd ever been in his life. "No, I suppose they could always defrock me in absentia," he agreed miserably.

"Does that un-do the priest thing?" Jack asked hopefully.

Daniel chuffed. "It takes away my legal ability to perform priestly duties within papal law, but it can't un-make me a priest. I believed I was called by God - who do you suppose has the paperwork necessary to 'un-call' me for that?"

"Ah," Jack said, not really understanding why he couldn't just _stop_ being a priest if he wanted to. It was sadly obvious to Jack that he was alone in his estimation of the previous night's significance. He pushed that disappointment to the back of his mind and concentrated on the problem at hand. "Well, you're not going back yet, because this _still_ doesn't answer the question of who was trying to kill you and why."

"They're looking for me, Jack," he said wearily.

"I don't think you need to worry about showing up on a milk carton any time soon," Jack said with a serenity he didn't feel. "Let's just take this one step at a time, okay? Put your head back and see how much you can remember about Sunday."

"Sunday?"

"Yeah. Two days ago. Late Sunday afternoon. I was alone in the confessional, minding my own business, and then all hell broke loose. You came up from the basement in the middle of it, and that goon tried to plant one between your eyes. See what you can bring back, okay? I'm just gonna drive for a while, in case anybody made you back there."

"Yeah, okay," Daniel agreed grudgingly as he slid down further into the seat. Unbidden, the Lord's Prayer came to him, comforting and familiar in Latin-- _Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum..._

*****

Jack ordered for Daniel, because he hadn't shown any sign he was even aware they were in the McDonald's drive-thru. Even with the bags of food in the truck, emitting the scent of deep-fried potatoes and heat lamp warmed burgers, Daniel didn't move from staring out the side window like he'd been doing for the last two hours, arms folded across his chest, gnawing on one poor, abused thumbnail.

Jack got back onto the highway and took the exit ramp for the next rest area. "C'mon," he said, shutting off the engine and nudging Daniel's arm. "Lunch is served."

They picked a spot of grass under a tree and well away from the building that housed the rest rooms, where all the foot traffic was. Jack sat and started rummaging through the bags.

"Sit, Daniel," he instructed quietly. "You're drawing attention to us."

"Sorry." Daniel sat and took the offered food, wrapped in a small paper box. He set it in his lap, then silently said his blessing and crossed himself.

"Shit," Jack muttered under his breath at the subtle but damning reminder. It had been an innocuous thing the other times he'd seen Daniel do that before he ate, but now it was like some giant neon sign proclaiming the sin Jack had wrought upon the previously innocent priest.

Daniel looked up, his eyes tired and sad. "Sorry," he said again.

"Stop saying that," Jack snapped. "We have to figure out what's what here; we don't have time for a lot of drama."

"It's who I am."

"It wasn't who you were last night," Jack snapped. _You didn't seem very priest-like when you had your tongue in my ass..._ Jack shut his eyes tightly and tried to lose the image of Daniel's head between his legs, his long, soft hair brushing Jack's thighs as he dug into Jack's hole with a very eager and knowledgeable tongue. But it was all too fresh, too new to his heart. Too fucking real to lose this way. "No. _I'm_ sorry," he whispered.

Daniel snorted. "I'll stop if you will." When Jack looked up at him, Daniel tried on a small smile. "Pass the fries?"

"Yeah."

They ate in silence until the burgers were gone. "No ketchup?" Daniel asked.

Jack picked up the bag and shook it until three packages of ketchup fell out onto the grass. "Ask, and ye shall receive."

"Isn't that one of my lines?"

"You tell me," Jack said, stretching out onto his side, bracing his head with one bent arm. He refused to freak out about this; he could be calm. They'd figure something out. "What have you remembered?"

Daniel sighed. "Everything, I think. I remember my name and the names of some of my parishioners. I remember spending two years in the Seminary and another four in Apostolic Field Ed. I remember defending my dissertation in Linguistics at MIT and Theology at Harvard. I remember my parents-" he paused, frowning a little at having to report it this way, "were both killed in a cave-in at a dig near Giza when I was eight. After that, my Grandfather Ballard, my only living relative, who was also an archeologist, sent me to a Jesuit-run boarding school in Maryland, because he believed it would be better for me than following him from dig to dig all over the world."

He thought about it for a few moments and then grunted softly. "I learned Quechua and Basque to try and impress him, so he'd take me with him, but..." He shook his head and started gathering up the trash bits and stuffing them angrily into the empty paper bag, as if he could stuff the sad memories in there and dispose of them, along with the other refuse.

"I was ordained two years ago; I remember the day very clearly. Two friends came to witness for me, since I have no family. Sam Carter, a friend from Harvard, and Robert Rothman, a friend from the seminary who was a year ahead of me. I thought I'd found where I was meant to be, where I could make a difference." He sighed and looked away. "It was the happiest day of my life. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere..."

Jack schooled his features to remain neutral, trying not to show how much that simple statement hurt inside. He'd thought that in the last two days, they'd found something in each other that might mean something to Daniel. Jack hoped it had, but he knew it probably wasn't enough to compete with... well, _God,_ for cryin' out loud.

"So how..." Jack wasn't even sure how to ask the question. While he was struggling, Daniel figured it out.

"How does a gay guy become a priest?"

"Yeah. I mean, even I know the Pope's pretty much against it."

Daniel sighed. Recounting his life in stark detail this way made it seem so dry and lonely. Maybe because it was. "I'd been in a Jesuit-run orphanage since I was eight; I remember I could never find enough books to read... I was accepted to Georgetown Prep, a freshman at thirteen, paid in full by my grandfather, who couldn't bother to visit me but always paid the bills. I learned all I could there, and then applied and was accepted at MIT at sixteen. I burned through their Philology department pretty quickly and ended up with a PhD in Linguistics and a Masters in Philosophy." His lip curled a bit and he shrugged at Jack's amazed expression. "I seem to have something of an affinity for language.

"The school environment was comfortable for me; I guess I kinda grew up in school. I enjoyed learning for the sake of learning, but I didn't have any kind of real plan for my life, I lacked direction. My academic counselor suggested I talk with one of the school chaplains, and we talked about why I'd stopped going to church. After a while the idea of going into the priesthood came up, and that's when I started seriously thinking about it.

"My grandfather left me a sizable trust fund when he died, which more than paid what the scholarships didn't. I transferred to Harvard Divinity School when I was twenty and earned a ThD in Theology and a Masters in Archeology from there. I guess I could've followed in my family's footsteps and become an archeologist, but I just didn't have the heart for it, so I stopped at the Masters level with that; it was just something to do to break up the monotony. I entered St. John's Seminary in Boston from there."

It was obvious to Jack that Daniel had been searching for something through all of that. Or maybe running away from something... "Doesn't sound like normal college life to me," he observed quietly, looking up at Daniel through the dappled sun light.

"And by 'normal', you mean sex, drugs and rock and roll?" Daniel asked quietly.

Jack shrugged.

"There was plenty of all three," Daniel replied reluctantly. "I wasn't born a priest, Jack; I have a past. A lot of it wasn't pretty." And he really didn't want to get into _any_ of it, particularly with Jack, but Daniel knew he deserved answers.

"I stayed away from drugs for the most part. I had a couple of close friends who were killed in a drug buy that went bad. The local DEA guy was a little too anxious to make his point, and they were gunned down in the crossfire." He hadn't been there, but people who were had described it for him, and it was a memory he'd just as soon not have regained.

Jack wasn't sure what to say to that. Congratulations for staying clear, or I'm sorry for your loss. He opted for changing the subject instead. "And the sex? Are you bi, or-"

"Strictly gay. One hundred percent."

"You sound pretty sure about that."

Daniel frowned at the memory, not really an unpleasant one, but not one he'd visited very often in the last fifteen years. "There was a girl named Shau'ri in my first-year Philosophy class at MIT; her father was the Egyptian ambassador to the UN. She and I fooled around a little once, just touching and stuff. I don't think it did much for her, and I know it didn't do a damn thing for me." She'd been beautiful, and he'd liked her, but trying to be intimate with her had just felt wrong.

"And then she introduced me to her brother, Ska'ara. He and I hit it off immediately. He was my first lover." Daniel frowned again, then looked down at his hands, rubbing the greasy aftermath of the fries off on his jeans so he wouldn't have to look at Jack. Soon after they'd hooked up, Ska'ara had introduced him to the gay lifestyle. He'd thought his father's diplomatic immunity would protect him no matter what he did, but it hadn't turned out that way. There'd been drugs and men, a lot of them, sometimes several at a time, nobody much interested in finesse and seduction, just wanting to get off in the fastest way possible, as many times as possible.

Condoms had always been used, so that wasn't a concern, but the sex which had left Daniel feeling physically sated in the moment had also left him feeling emotionally bankrupt after a while. Ska'ara had touched his heart, but none of what came after had fulfilled his soul, so he'd kept looking for more and more, searching for something that would.

He didn't know whether or not Jack would understand that kind of promiscuity, but Daniel knew he didn't want Jack knowing it about him. It was something he thought he'd put behind him a long time ago.

"I hated Ska'ara for dying on me; for leaving me alone. I'd let myself get close to him, and he died, like everyone else in my life. The drugs -getting the score- was more important to him than being with me." He swallowed hard, blinking away the sting behind his eyes. He cleared his throat and pushed on.

"After Ska'ara was killed, I was kind of on automatic for a while. I knew there was something missing in my life, but I had no family, nothing but school. After a few years, I had all the education I needed to enter the seminary; my spiritual director and several of my professors all wanted that for me. I taught for a few years while I prayed about whether or not I felt a calling to the priesthood before I finally made the commitment."

"How does that reconcile with being gay, Daniel?" Jack asked gently. "How can you give your life to a God who condemns what you are?" He'd kept up with the news; he knew the Pontiff's positions on gays.

Daniel frowned, looking off at the cars leaving the rest area. He wondered briefly why the opinion of a killer should matter so much to him, but a voice in his heart answered immediately. _Because you're in love with him, stupid._

"According to the Pope, everything we did together was wrong, immoral. There're a lot of passages in the Bible that speak of the abomination of men lying with other men instead of women. Leviticus, Romans, First Corinthians-"

"You got 'em all memorized?" Jack asked softly.

"Soul-searching, Jack; almost seven years worth. How can I reconcile what I feel inside with the fact that the Church teaches that all of it's wrong? Obviously, I don't ascribe to that belief, or I wouldn't be able to live with myself," he said a little more sharply than he'd intended. These were all areas he'd spent a lot of time thinking and praying about, but it was disconcerting to be discussing them with the man whose cock had just undone Daniel's whole life. "I have to believe that a loving God created me just as I am, with all my faults and shortcomings, and according to some plan I'm not privy to."

"God don't make no junk?" Jack paraphrased gently.

"Something like that." Daniel's fingers had begun moving as if working an invisible rosary, so he stilled them by shoving them under his legs and closed his eyes. "I begged God every night for more than three years to give me some kind of sign that the priesthood was what He wanted for me. I prayed for Him to remove my need for physical pleasure, for men, but the temptation was always _right there._ I fought it for a long time; it was really hard at first. Absence may make the heart grow fonder, but _abstinence_ eventually dulls the need. The urges don't ever go away, though... ultimately, it's a matter of repentance, and simply deciding never to act on those feelings again."

Jack watched Daniel talk about being a priest as they sat in the grass, the afternoon sunlight highlighting his brown hair with gold, and considered the part he'd played in Daniel's downfall. If he'd left Daniel in the church, they never would've had sex, and Daniel's vows would still be unchallenged. On the other hand, if the last shooter hadn't been alone, Daniel might well be dead now. And besides, Jack couldn't bring himself to regret the last two days; it was the first time he'd felt alive in far too long.

"Maybe I was just fooling myself, thinking I'd put that part of my life behind me, that I'd matured beyond it..."

"And I started that up again?" Jack whispered softly.

Daniel blew out a breath, but didn't look up at him. "In spades."

The corner of Jack's mouth quirked a bit, but he quashed the smile before it really formed. "How long had it been... before me?" he asked quietly. It shouldn't matter. But it did.

"Nine years. Almost ten."

"Holy crap!" In spite of himself, Jack's mouth hung open in shock. He shook his head. "D'oh! Sorry-"

Daniel rolled his eyes heavenward, then closed them tight. There was no way he was ever going to make Jack understand. All Christians are supposed to emulate Jesus, but priests are held to an even higher standard. "This isn't like falling off the wagon and accidentally taking a drink, and then promising never to do it again. I made the decision to give my life to God, and I took a vow of celibacy in support of that. The denial - it's a gift to God, Jack. Don't you get it? I meant it with all my heart, and now that's all screwed up!"

Jack just nodded. What the hell could he say to that? _Maybe you were just saving yourself for me?_ Someone as loving and sensual as Daniel giving up _who he was_ for some vague ideology, just because some geezer sitting in a castle in the Vatican said so? Other religions let their clergy also be men and women, to have lives, what was with the Catholics? It was wasteful. It was a sin, if Jack had ever seen one. And the whole 'gays are evil' thing was a whole separate issue, but not unrelated in his mind.

He hadn't meant to make Daniel feel as though he had to defend the entire Catholic faith, so he changed the subject a little, trying to find territory that was a little less caustic. "You don't see many priests with long hair," he ventured finally.

Daniel realized what Jack was doing, trying to ease him back into the harsh realities of his life while treading carefully on the more dangerous bits. He loved him for it, but this was all such a hideous mess, and Daniel didn't know what to do to fix it. He wasn't sure talking was actually making it any better.

"My Bishop thought it would help me connect with the young single demographic and the younger lapsed Catholics. He asked me to let it grow out," Daniel answered offhandedly.

"So. Pimpin' ya out, then?" Jack asked. He winced, regretting the bitter words the instant they were out of his mouth.

Daniel looked up then, and it finally registered that he wasn't the only one having a hard time with this. He pushed his own pain down and tried to find something inside with which to help Jack. "What has you so down on organized religion anyway?"

"It's all lies, myths, and fairytales," Jack said dismissively.

"Is it just priests you hate?" Daniel asked softly. "Or is it God Himself?"

Jack thought a long time before he finally answered. He'd never told anyone, not even Kawalsky. Maybe it was time he finally got it off his chest. He couldn't think of anyone he trusted more with the seed of his pain.

"I had a normal life once," Jack said softly. "Career Air Force; loved flying. Married, had a son. Five years ago, when he was almost ten, there was an... accident. He and his mom were walking home after a trip to the ice cream store as a reward for an 'A' on his spelling test. A freak drive-by shooting in a 'good' neighborhood. They were both dead before they hit the pavement." Jack waited a couple of beats, then when he thought he could continue without his voice breaking, he spoke again. "The service had to be with closed caskets..."

_He'd made them show him. 'Best to remember them how they were,' the funeral director had argued. But Jack had been insistent to the point of rage. He remembered standing there looking down into the white caskets, sitting side by side in the mortuary, memorizing what the shooter had done to his family; to his world. It was what he made himself think about during every assignment, just before he pulled the trigger. It was a way to vent his rage over the injustices done to the innocent in this world._

"At the funeral, the priest said it was 'God's will'." Jack's mouth tightened, the old familiar fury a bitter lump in his throat, just like always. "God's fuckin' will... I wanted to kill him where he stood."

Daniel reached out and took Jack's hand in his, holding it tightly until Jack looked at him. He had no words for Jack, nothing that would make his loss bearable, especially when it looked like even the years hadn't dimmed the pain one whit, and it was as fresh as the day it'd happened.

"Is that when..."

"I got into the assassination business?" Jack filled in helpfully. At Daniel's nod, he just shrugged, looking down at their joined hands and let himself feel the strength in Daniel's grip; it made him feel safe. "I couldn't fly anymore; I didn't have the concentration. The Air Force shrink said I had 'anger management issues'. Can you believe that?" he spat sarcastically.

"Old, used-up pilots live on their pensions and war stories. I had no one to share a retirement with, and no stomach for war stories. I'd always been a good shot, so when an old war buddy approached me with an offer of a clandestine government job for trained snipers, I jumped on board. Had no reason not to. I had no ties to anyone, so it didn't matter what happened to me. I was the perfect candidate."

"War buddy... Janet?"

"No. Guy named Maybourne put me in touch with the Agency. You've heard of them; they're the ones who 'disavow any knowledge of your actions' when it all goes to hell. I actually draw a big, fat paycheck from the State Department, if you can believe that," Jack added wryly. "They have a special bank account they pay all the spooks out of. I've worked for them for almost five years."

"Worked?" Daniel asked quickly.

"That's why I was in the church the other day, Daniel," he grunted bitterly. "I screwed the last job on purpose. I got there, found my mark, and just couldn't pull the trigger; I tried, I was in a perfect position to do it, but I just couldn't..."

He could see it, the quaint street in Boulder with all the well-groomed little hippie granola shops, selling overpriced incense, tinkley wind chimes, and flavored fudge to the tourists. He'd read the file on the kid; he was no angel, but he wasn't a mafia boss, either. Yet. Agency analysts had decided that if his father, the current, apparently terminally ill, leader of the local Mafioso had no legitimate heirs, the whole 'family' would fall into chaos once he bit the dust. It was a weak argument, Jack thought, but thinking isn't what they paid him for.

Murray had drawn the father, Jack the son. It was the luck of the draw, nothing more. Jack had asked Murray to trade with him, but the big black man was superstitious about shit like that and had refused.

"Why couldn't you go through with it?" Daniel asked softly. "What made this time different?"

Jack's lips thinned. He wasn't sure he could say it out loud. But Daniel's hand was firm and warm against his. Supportive. Loving. "He was just a kid," Jack whispered finally, "barely fifteen..."

"The same age your son would've been." He'd seen it coming; full circle justice was rarely subtle.

Jack shuddered. The setting had been too eerily similar to the way his son had died. "I walked away. I packed up and started driving; didn't care where I ended up. I knew I was as good as dead, but I didn't really care anymore. The Agency's not a place with a great retirement package, if ya get my drift." He figured they'd send Murray for him. Murray was the best.

"Couldn't you just tell them..." Jack's hard expression stopped that line of questioning cold. "No. I suppose not, huh?"

"I knew they'd send someone to take me out. Leaving me alive was too dangerous a loose end. After all, I might talk."

"You came to my church seeking forgiveness?"

"No."

"Tell me why you were there," Daniel asked softly.

"I needed to close a few doors, that's all; take a few minutes to get my thoughts together."

"You were in the confessional, Jack. You must've been waiting for a priest-"

"No," Jack said emphatically, "I _wasn't._ I'm a soldier, and I follow orders. That's all. No forgiveness needed." He narrowed his eyes and considered the man beside him, who, before he'd met Jack, had been beautiful and naïve. Unsullied. He was the reason people like Jack had to exist in the first place.

"Most Americans go to bed every night, safe in the knowledge that the bad guys are being taken care of, and they mostly don't want to know how," Jack explained softly. "Gimme a steak, but don't tell me how you treated the cow during its lifetime, and for _godsake,_ don't tell me how you killed it.

"There are bad people out there, Daniel, people who threaten the American way of life. We don't kill big names anymore; all of that happened before my time: JFK, RFK, King, Che, Malcom X, all excellent grist for the conspiracy theorists, but I have no firsthand knowledge of any of that. And anyway, there's always some nut, a fanatic or sociopath, wanting to take out somebody famous. Look at Gerald Ford and Sarah Jayne Moore. It's taken a long time, and a lot of senseless bloodletting, but we've finally figured out how to manipulate the world's balance of power with minimal loss of life."

"This is sanctioned?" Daniel asked in disbelief. "By the government?" He couldn't help thinking about the horrible 'accident' that had killed Princess Diana two months before. There were those who claimed all wasn't as it appeared, that she couldn't be allowed to bear the child of the man she was seeing, a child who would have been a half-sibling to the monarchy of England.

"It's not only sanctioned, it's a budget line-item!" Jack said tightly. "Analysts have been tracking this for a long time, as far back as Korea. That 'police action' didn't go very well, and for all of our watching the French in Indo China, Vietnam was a fuckin' _nightmare._ All the meddling we did in South America just made that situation worse. Ya see, the key isn't to whack the _top_ of the food chain; that just lets some other predator move up to take his place. The way to do it is to eat away at the foundation; grooming future predators and making opportunities has paid off a lot more consistently for us."

Daniel frowned. "Are you quoting the 'just war doctrine' to me?"

"I'm saying there are people higher up than me making the decisions and giving the orders," Jack replied tightly. "I'm saying I have to rely on the fact that they have all the information and are making good decisions-"

"That might work, if you really believed it," Daniel accused gently. "Where's the moral certainty that a fifteen year old boy could be responsible for damage 'lasting, grave and certain'? You followed your conscience, Jack," Daniel proclaimed firmly, " and that's not a bad thing."

"Don't think you know me," Jack warned. Too much of his life had been lived with a gun in his hand.

"I _do_ know you, Jack," Daniel said firmly, holding Jack's eyes with his own. "I've seen into your soul, remember? Last night as you slowly and patiently screwed me into nirvana, your eyes bored into mine, and we saw each other stripped bare of all pretenses. We connected on a spiritual level, whether you can accept that or not, and I saw who you really are. You're a good man-"

"You don't know the first thing about me!" Jack said harshly, jerking his hand away and sitting up.

Daniel folded his now empty hands in his lap. "I know your love for your wife and son was what sustained you, and when you lost them, you lost your anchor. You found it again through the scope of your weapon when you targeted that boy and decided to let him live."

"Damn it, Daniel! We can't be _having_ this discussion!"

"We can't _not_ have it, Jack," Daniel whispered urgently. "It's not like we can pretend the last two days never happened as long as we don't admit it out loud. _It happened._ I wanted you to fuck me that first time, and you did. You wanted to make love to me last night, and I encouraged it, and as God is my witness, Jack, I've never wanted anything more!"

Their eyes locked together with that statement, and Daniel continued. "And somewhere along the way, whether or not it's _convenient_ for either of us, we fell in love with each other. There's really no point lying about it, no point being afraid of the word itself. God _knows_ what's in our hearts, Jack. I believe God was _watching_ the whole time."

Jack frowned, eyes narrowed with all the pent up anger and grief in his heart. "And what does your God think about me taking one of His flock? Hmmm? How does He feel about you breaking your vows to Him with someone who kills for a living? How does he feel about us doing all those deviant, homosexual things with each other? Is God _happy_ with us, Daniel?"

Daniel didn't know how to answer that. According to everything he'd been taught, sodomy was a sin, pure and simple, whether it involved two men, or a man and a woman. There were no mitigating factors here; what they'd done together was a transgression of the worst kind. And yet, unlike what he'd done with Ska'ara and all the others, Daniel knew what he felt for Jack was real, transcending the merely sexual. Being with Jack was like having a family, someone who cared about him as a person, an individual, not just a messenger of God, or an easy lay.

And underneath everything horrible Jack had had to do in his life, he _was_ a good man; Daniel was certain of it.

Daniel knew he loved Jack with every fiber of his being, whatever his past. But what were you supposed to do when your God tells you your love is wrong, and the one who owns your heart hates everything you stand for?

That's the way Daniel's life usually went-- people dying, leaving him, always alone. That's part of why he'd gone into the priesthood; it was safe to commit to God, because God wouldn't leave him. At least that's what he used to think. He certainly wasn't feeling very close to God at the moment...

"I'll see if I can hitch a ride back to Denver," Daniel said sadly, standing up and brushing the grass off his butt.

"No!" Jack hissed, fear for someone he loved breaking through his personal anger at Daniel, at the Pope, at God. "Someone in Denver still wants you dead, _remember?"_

"I can't run away with you," Daniel said, looking down at Jack sternly.

Jack stood up. Much too close. Close enough to make his case with a kiss, if he wanted to. "Do you _want_ to run away with me?" he demanded under his breath.

Daniel looked up at him, guilt and sadness and need in his eyes. "Don't you _dare_ ask me that," he said through gritted teeth. "I have a responsibility to uphold. A duty to the Church, my congregation, to my Bishop! I can't just walk away from that-"

"Does that duty include you walking into another bullet?" Jack snapped in a whisper. "Show me where it says that in your Bible!"

"I have to go back-"

"So they can tell you how immoral you are for being human?"

"You're not helping," Daniel said tightly, folding his arms across his chest. It was the only way he could be sure to keep his hands to himself. He was furious at Jack, at the situation, and it was taking all his self-control not to punch Jack in the face for threatening him with everything he'd ever wanted.

"I'm trying to help you, Daniel, but you're _not listening."_ He looked around them, at the dozens of people making use of the rest area, so far ignoring them, but not for much longer if their discussion escalated any further. "This is too public," he snapped, lowering his voice. "We've got to keep moving."

"Jack-" Daniel complained, stubbornly not budging.

"Daniel, have you remembered why someone's trying to kill you?"

"No..."

"Then until you remember, don't you think it'd be safer to stay together and lay low?"

Daniel looked around them, unable to counter Jack's logic, and then nodded reluctantly as he followed Jack to the truck.

*****

"How long are we going to keep driving?" Daniel asked. The rest area was three hours behind them, and Daniel needed to pee. He hadn't seen so much as another car on this road in more than thirty minutes.

Jack had been driving almost on automatic; it was safer than thinking about what was ahead of them. Safer than remembering what they were losing. "Until I have a plan, I guess."

"Well, I think the first order of business is that I need to take a leak, and you probably need gas. Then we need to think about something to eat, and somewhere to stay."

"When'd you get to be so damned bossy?"

"When it started looking like you were heading for the border into Mexico."

"It's one plan," Jack said defensively.

"Kidnapping?"

"I'm your bodyguard, remember? It's my job to keep you alive."

"You know I can't pay you for any of this," Daniel said snarkily, "I seem to have left my Vatican Visa in my other cassock."

Jack gave him a quick sidelong glance, but said nothing.

"I can't run forever," Daniel sighed.

"Why not?" It didn't sound like he had much to go back for. Maybe there was still a chance for them, if Jack could talk him out of going back to Denver.

"What? I've explained this to you-"

Jack took a hard right and pulled off the road onto the flat shoulder and into the scrubby grass, spraying up a cloud of dirt and coarse sand as the truck skidded to a stop. He slammed the car into park but didn't shut off the engine. He hitched his hip a little, so he was facing Daniel, and laid his right arm along the back of the seat.

"Tell me this: What happens if you do go back? What do you tell them?"

"This isn't necessary-"

"Humor. Me."

Daniel folded his hands in his lap and sighed. "I'll explain that I've had amnesia because of hitting my head when the guy with the gun took a shot at you. I was trying to protect you and stupidly intercepted the bullet with my head. I only remembered who I was when I saw the news-"

"Who were you protecting?"

"You, Jack. I took that bullet for you, remember? Stop being an ass."

"If you hit your head and were knocked out, how is it that you weren't there when the police and rescue workers arrived moments after the shots were fired?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Because you helped me get away-"

"Where have you been for the last two days?"

"Hiding out in a motel room with you!"

"And who am I?"

"What?"

"Who _am_ I? Who do I work for? What's my name?"

"I-I dunno. I never bothered to-"

"And where is this mythical man whose name you claim not to know? Jack demanded.

"What do ya mean?"

"The Agency's probably sent someone to punch my ticket already. I can't be part of this investigation." His expression softened at the devastated look on Daniel's face as he realized he'd have to do this alone. "Without me, your story doesn't hold water, and I can't go back to Denver with you."

"Because you're wanted?"

Jack shook his head and chuffed angrily. "I wasn't wanted by anybody but my own people until I walked into that church; the local police wouldn't know me from Adam. If they ran a trace on my prints, they'd find nothing remarkable, only what the Agency wants them to find. I haven't ever broken the law, Daniel; I work for Uncle Sam. I follow orders; I take care of problems by making them go away. I'm one of the President's hired guns; the ones he doesn't want the public to know about."

"And now you've become one of the problems because you wouldn't kill that boy."

"Yeah. But that's my concern and not anything you have to worry about. Trust me, you've got your own shit to deal with. Now, the only way I can see for you to get your life back is to figure out who's trying to kill you and why, so that's what we've got to be focusing on." Jack looked around, and seeing no one else on the empty stretch of road said, "Go ahead and take a leak here; the next town's about an hour away."

"Jack-"

Jack sighed tiredly. "I won't look, Daniel. I promise."

*****

They drove for nearly an hour in complete silence. Jack's heart was heavy with loss, knowing he'd already lost Daniel, the pain all the more excruciating because he was sitting barely two feet away. Close enough to... do all kinds of things Jack shouldn't be thinking about anymore.

He glanced at Daniel out of the corner of his eye. Pale, staring straight ahead, all folded up in despair, and all Jack wanted to do right now was hold him. And even that was off limits.

Priests were supposed to be the ones regular people went to, when they were lost and afraid and in pain. Who comforted the priests themselves, Jack wondered. Did they have special priests, just for other priests to talk to? Were they allowed to be human at all? Ever? Or did they give that up once they'd given their lives to God?

Silently, Jack cursed God, mostly for letting Daniel be hurt, but also for taking away Jack's chance at love once again.

*****

Daniel stared out the window, watching the asphalt get eaten up by the hood of the truck as the miles of nondescript New Mexican desert sped by. Occasionally, traffic came from the other direction, big trucks with bright lights mostly, but they were essentially alone. Alone pretty much described Daniel's life so far. Even when he'd been with Ska'ara, Daniel had been pretty much on his own emotionally.

Ska'ara had been two years older than the sixteen-year-old Daniel when they'd met, with a enigmatic personality and a strong drive to be daring. Daniel had been instantly smitten by his dark, swarthy good looks, the bottomless, almost black eyes, his hair worn in dreadlocks just to piss his father off. He'd seemed different and dangerous, and after spending his entire youth safely ensconced at Georgetown Prep, regulated by Jesuit headmasters and psychological social workers, Daniel longed to be part of whatever made Ska'ara tick.

They'd been exclusive for almost a month, during which time Ska'ara introduced Daniel to the joys of gay sex. There'd never been any discussion about switching roles; Ska'ara told Daniel he was bottom, and so that's what he was.

It had been, Daniel realized now, more than a little heartbreaking the first time Ska'ara had given Daniel to one of his buddies. He remembered kneeling naked on the back seat of the sedan, bracing himself to keep from banging his head against the door while someone he'd only met ten minutes previously pounded away inside him. Ska'ara had avidly watched him being fucked, kneeling on the front seat, while a fourth man sucked him off.

Daniel had been ashamed and humiliated the first time. And the second. He hadn't come either time; he couldn't. All too soon, the parade of anonymous men became the norm, and he stopped thinking he should know the names of the men who used him, concentrating solely on getting the bang. He didn't remember how much longer it was before being taken by one nameless man at a time turned into having one at each end, or one right after the other, until he finally came, reaching for something he didn't understand and couldn't quite grasp.

He supposed he must've made his peace with his past at some point, in order to move forward into the seminary. He had to have done penance for all that sin before he could receive ordination, but he couldn't remember yet how any of that had happened. And thinking about it now was like seeing it through someone else's eyes -Jack's maybe- and it made him sick to his stomach to think about what he'd done. He'd spent years letting anyone fuck him; he'd been just a hole for someone's convenience.

How was it possible to have any soul left after that? How could _any_ amount of penance make up for that?

*****

They stopped in another small town, looking for dinner. The neon lights and moderately filled parking lot of a local diner caught Jack's eye, and he pulled in.

They ate silently, not even trying for polite conversation, almost as if the intimacy they'd found in Socorro had never happened. As the waitress left the check, Jack's eye was drawn to two women in a booth near the door. They were muttering to each other in Spanish and repeatedly glancing Jack's way, trying unsuccessfully to be nonchalant about it.

"What's the matter?" Daniel asked softly, noticing Jack's uneasiness.

Jack glanced from Daniel to the booth in question with the minutest mead movement, then back down at the check in his hand.

Daniel looked where Jack had indicated, then went back to finishing the last few bites of his meal, paying close attention to any snatches of their exchange he could. When he finally got the gist of the conversation, he tried to hide a smile.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing sinister. The older one thinks you're cute. The younger one says you're too old. The older one told the younger one to take a look at your hands, and that with hands that big, you'd have to have quite a package between your legs."

"Oh, yeah?" Jack smirked, making a completely unnecessary adjustment of the collar of his shirt in order to further display his large hands.

"What are you doing?" Daniel asked, eyeing him with irritation.

"Nothin'," Jack said innocently, tossing some bills onto the table. "Let's go." Jack picked up his hat from the bench beside him and started for the door. As he passed the booth, he nodded toward them with a rakish salute, flashing his most charming smile. "Ladies," he said.

Annoyed, but not bothering to try to figure out why, Daniel held back by two paces, and as Jack held the door open for him, he said something in Spanish to the two women.

"What was that all about?" Jack asked as they made their way through the parking lot.

Daniel just shrugged and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, so Jack reached out and tugged on his jacket to slow him down. "What'd you just say to them?" he repeated.

Daniel sighed and muttered under his breath as he turned away, "I might've mentioned..."

"Mentioned what?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Matters to me. Whaja tell 'em?"

"I sort of alluded to the fact that you were..."

"Were?"

"Impotent."

_"What!?"_ Jack said, eyes wide as he swung up into the cab of the truck. "That wasn't very priest-like," he observed with a small chuckle as he started the engine. In truth, it was more like the reaction of a jealous lover, and Jack couldn't help but be sadly pleased by that.

Daniel got in on his side and slammed the door a little harder than necessary. "I'm not sure if it's escaped your attention these last few days," he snapped, shrugging down into the seat, "but I haven't exactly been _feeling_ very priest-like."

*****

They drove another fifty miles or so to a larger town and repeated the Sears maneuver, this time avoiding the TV department, and actually acquiring clothes and a carrying bag for Daniel and a new jacket for Jack.

After passing another couple of towns, they finally stopped for the night. As before, Daniel stayed in the truck while Jack got the room. This time, there were two beds.

The room was fancier than the one the previous night, with a small couch and a TV that actually had cable. Daniel wondered if Jack had gone upscale out of guilt. "How'd you explain to them why you wanted two beds?" Daniel asked softly. He hoped he didn't sound as disappointed as he felt.

Jack just shot him a look. "I'm gonna run to the liquor store across the street before they close and get some beer. You've got enough time to get a quick shower before I get back. Lock this door and don't open it for anyone but me."

"You _are_ coming back?" Daniel asked, knowing he sounded every bit as scared as he was.

Jack turned back and looked at him for a long moment before he replied. "Yeah."

Daniel locked the door behind him and went for his shower, using the soap and shampoo they'd picked up with the clothes, and tried not to worry that maybe Jack _wouldn't_ return.

He'd been finished and dressed in new boxers and a plain black t-shirt for several long, agonizing minutes before Jack knocked on the door. Daniel supposed he'd been watching somehow.

Jack set the beer on the small coffee table and shrugged out of his jacket before sinking into the couch with a deep sigh. He reached for the remote and turned on the TV, then opened a beer. Daniel watched him flip channels for a minute and then came to sit beside him on the couch, curling his legs underneath him. He gently pulled the bottle from Jack's fingers and took a deep swallow before returning it to him.

Jack just closed his eyes, feeling his heart thudding in his chest. _The priest was making a pass at him._ "I'm not gonna lay a hand on you," he said quietly, not meeting Daniel's eyes.

"Why not?" Daniel asked, already knowing the answer.

Jack leaned forward, resting his forearms across his knees, still not daring to look Daniel's way. He couldn't escape the feeling that he'd made Daniel dirty, by what he was, by what they'd done. "Because you're a priest now, that's why!"

Daniel shrugged. "I was a priest last night. You let me-"

"Doesn't this freak you out?" Jack asked tightly. "Knowing what we did? What you are?"

Daniel took the beer bottle again and calmly took another drink. He'd already freaked out in the privacy of his own head, and it hadn't been pretty. He'd come to the conclusion that he couldn't go back to his old life. Once he accepted his punishment and went through whatever administrative procedures were involved with being laicized, he was on his own. Again. He wasn't sure teaching would even be a possibility, once word got out that he was gay. Hard to hide the 'thrown out of the Roman Catholic Church on my ass' part on a job application.

"No point in getting freaked out; what's done is done," Daniel said quietly. "That part of my life is over. I can't undo the things we did together, and I don't think I even want to. I know I should be horrified by what I've done, but then..." _I've done so much worse..._

He reached out and pulled a new beer from the six-pack and opened it, handing the new one to Jack and keeping the old one for himself.

"It doesn't really matter anymore. Of all the sins they'd be likely to overlook or forgive for penance, being gay isn't one of them." What he and Jack had done together was so different from the kind of life he'd lived fifteen years ago... not the same thing at all. But the Archbishop wouldn't see it that way; to the church, Daniel would be an embarrassment, a scandal, nothing more. They wouldn't want an unrepentantly gay priest back, Daniel was sure of it.

"You don't belong to me," Jack said softly, anguish making him feel completely drained. He stared at the beer bottle in his hand. "You never really did."

It was those words, more than anything else, that cut to Daniel's heart. The warm, home-like feeling he'd gotten in Jack's arms now only a poignant memory. "You made me believe I did," he whispered.

Jack opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it and simply shook his head. He'd been a fool. He'd let his guard down and allowed this man inside his soul, and he'd be paying for that weakness for the rest of his life.

"Y'know, life was relatively easy in the seminary," Daniel offered quietly. He thought he understood why Jack was pulling away. It took a huge amount of integrity to put someone else's needs before your own, if that was what he was doing. And his occupation aside, Jack had integrity in spades.

"Surrounded by so many men I didn't know and hadn't met, wasn't going to, not in that way. Complete anonymity. Totally occupied every waking minute with classes and hard work and spiritual pursuits. Relatively easy to ignore the need for physical companionship." He looked at Jack, who continued to stare morosely at his beer bottle. Daniel still wasn't sure what Jack's motives in pushing him away were, but Daniel was absolutely certain that he wanted to stay with Jack.

"It's not the same with you," Daniel accused gently. "I can still taste the skin behind your balls. I can feel the shape of your cock in my mouth, the fullness of it in my ass. My body starts to react to you from across a room, Jack. I can't turn it off anymore. Somehow I've imprinted on you, and I can't let that go."

"You _have_ to!" Jack said, finally looking Daniel in the eye. He didn't want to hear this, not when there was no chance at all for them. "You're a priest, for cryin out loud! You belong to God!"

"Do you even _believe_ in God?"

"It doesn't matter whether I do or not," Jack said, his jaw firm, his heart breaking. "I believe in dibs, and _He_ saw ya first." He slammed the untouched bottle on the table and strode across the room. "What've you remembered about Sunday?" he demanded over his shoulder, hands jammed angrily into his pockets.

Daniel sighed, getting that the discussion, the possibility of ever being together again, was completely, heartbreakingly over. Jack wasn't concerned about Daniel's career in the church; he just hated priests. "Nothing new," he said softly.

"Are you trying to block it out, so you don't have to go back?"

"What? No!" He thought about it for a moment, and then amended it to, "At least I don't think so..."

"Janet said it was possible."

"You talked to Janet? When? What did she say?"

"Called her from the payphone outside the liquor store. She said we should try to walk you through that day, bit by bit, and see if that jogs your memory." Jack nervously rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Look... I can't hang around here for much longer; it's too dangerous. I've got to go to ground before they pick up my trail. You've got to remember, so you can go back and get on with your life."

_Well. That was as succinct a brush-off as he'd ever heard._ Daniel set his beer on the table and folded his hands in his lap, willing himself not to start crying. "I'm ready when you are," he said levelly. How do we make me remember?"

Jack took a deep breath. He hadn't expected this level of cooperation, but he was glad Daniel wasn't making a scene. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to withstand it if he did.

"Okay," Jack said evenly, not having the first idea how to go about this. "Let's see... ah, I'm near the front of the church, on the side with those two little booths-"

"The confessionals," Daniel corrected.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Who's tellin' this story?"

"Sorry. Go on."

"Okay, out of the corner of my eye, I see you. You're dressed like a civilian, and you're just standing there lookin' at the room. I yell for you to get down, because I don't know how many more there are. You crouch down on your side of the aisle and demand to know what happened..."

Jack waited to see if this shook anything up, but when Daniel motioned him to go on, he continued. "I told you my name, and you told me yours..." He went on to describe the scene as best he could.

_"Which way'd you come in, Daniel?"_

"Up from the basement. I heard the screaming."

"Pretty hard to miss."

"Is it over? We have to help these people-"

"I only know one way to find out."

"What are you doing?"

"Keep your head down! Let me see if I got 'em all!"

"Then there were sirens," Jack said softly, trying not to jar Daniel, whose gaze was glazed over and somewhere else altogether now. "I came back to where you were and told you to stay down. I was getting ready to split out the side door, but you demanded to know where I was going..." He waited a moment, then whispered, "Look, I didn't do this... I have a fatal allergy to sirens."

Jack paused, seeing Daniel's hands clenching into fists in his lap. Once again, he waited to see if Daniel would say anything; it seemed like maybe they were getting closer. When Daniel still didn't speak, Jack squatted down in front of him and whispered what he'd heard the shooter say. _"There you are. Did you think hiding out in a church would protect you?"_

"It always worked for Duncan MacLeod," Jack said, repeating his response.

After several moments, Jack whispered again, _"I wasn't talkin' to you!"_

"This isn't your fight, Evan," Daniel finally entreated in a hoarse whisper, still staring at something only he could see. "Don't let Kinsey do this to you; you have a promising future!" His eyes were still locked on a point far away.

Jack watched as Daniel's eyes filled with tears and then closed, his chin falling to his chest. He reached out to lay a comforting hand on Daniel's shoulder, and the next instant, his arms were suddenly full of the trembling man. Jack did the only thing his heart would let him do; he held on as tight as he could while Daniel cried it out.

*****

Jack wished he'd thought to pick up something besides Heineken's. Daniel was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back to the couch, finishing his second beer. His eyes were shiny and red-rimmed from crying.

Daniel had smooth skin and young-looking features, and the long hair added to his youthful look. But the tiny crows feet at the corners of both eyes spoke of wisdom earned through a life hard lived. Right now, Daniel looked much older than his years.

"You ready to talk about it?"

Daniel sniffed and heaved a deep sigh. "Yeah, I guess." He took another long drink of the beer in his hand, looked at how much was left in the bottle, and upended it. He set the empty on the table next to his smudged glasses, wishing they had something stronger.

"The boy's name is Evan Buschette; he's one of my parishioners. He's had a difficult life and made some bad choices, but he's basically a decent kid. Got a good job at the local department store recently. I think he's finally got his life turned around."

Jack took a deep breath and blew it out. "He's dead, Daniel," Jack confessed softly.

Daniel's face screwed up like he was going to burst into tears again, and Jack watched as Daniel valiantly fought them back under control without losing a single one. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, his lips moving in prayer. Then he crossed himself and reached for the ribbon-thingy that wasn't around his neck like it was supposed to be, but he brought his fingers to his lips as if it were.

"All I had was my knife; I didn't have a choice," Jack whispered. "Not if we were gonna get outta there alive-"

Daniel winced as though he'd been physically struck with the words and the horror they invoked, but he said nothing, eyes still tightly closed. It killed him to know Jack had murdered Evan for him with his own hands.

Jack's throat tightened with shame as he watched Daniel execute the gestures of his profession. He ran through the scenario in his head, coming to the same inevitable conclusion _-the man had had to die-_ but he knew Daniel didn't see it that way. They were so different, a priest and a hired gun; not a natural pairing under any circumstances.

He'd tainted Daniel, there was no doubt about it, but all he could do was keep his distance until he was able to get him home to his friends, someone who could watch over him and keep him safe.

Jack continued to sit on the floor across from him, even though his right knee was screaming from the position. He sat quietly, letting Daniel try to process the events the best he could. Praying, probably. Jack remembered that he used to pray once, too.

Finally, when Jack couldn't stand watching Daniel's grief-filled, motionless face any longer, he stretched his leg out and prodded softly, "Who is Kinsey?"

Daniel sniffed and wiped his cheek on the shoulder of his t-shirt. "The Right Reverend Robert Patrick Kinsey, Bishop of Denver; he runs the diocese. And he's my boss."

"He ordered the hit?"

Daniel's chin fell again, and he shook his head sadly. He'd been content with his life as a priest; and now, everything he'd ever counted on was apparently a lie. His Bishop, an official of the Church to whom Daniel had vowed obedience, _a man of God,_ had arranged to have him killed. It was beyond comprehension.

"Evidently," Daniel whispered. How could someone who was supposed to be devoted to God hate someone else so much that they would attempt to end that person's life?

"You got any idea why your Bishop wants you dead?"

Daniel blew out a breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm afraid so. He-um... called me into his office after morning Mass," Daniel started, his voice sounding as dead as he felt inside. "He showed me a stack of photographs..." he looked down, biting his lip. He had no idea where the pictures had come from this long after the fact. But they were clear and damning, and there were a lot of them. It'd hurt to see Ska'ara's face again after all this time.

When Daniel didn't continue, Jack laid a hand on his knee. "I can't help you end this if you don't tell me everything," he said gently.

Daniel nodded, swallowing hard. He supposed it didn't really matter what Jack thought of him anymore. Whatever it was they'd had together the last few days was obviously, thoroughly over.

"They were pictures of me and Ska'ara," he said softly. "And... other men... there were a lot of them, and they were pretty graphic."

"Any idea how he got hold of 'em?"

Daniel shook his head, a little surprised that Jack had showed no reaction to the content of the pictures; he was grateful for that at least. "He said someone sent them to him. He said he was- how'd he put it? Um... _'I'm determined to purge your kind of filth from Mother Church'._

"I told him I was willing to ride the scandal out, that, like many since Jesus' time, I'd had an unsavory past, but that I'd changed and done penance, and I wanted to be held accountable for my sins and be forgiven for them, and not run and hide from them. I asked him for a hearing in front of the Archbishop. But he was adamant that I step down as quickly and quietly as possible.

Daniel remembered it all, now. "He wasn't angry, at least not outwardly so," Daniel reported. "He seemed almost pleased. His voice was sort of sad when he said, _'I will not allow you to defile my Church. No one wants a fag for a priest, particularly in the wealthier neighborhoods.'_ He said I had a choice. I could renounce my vows quietly and resign, or else accept transfer." Daniel pursed his lips a little. "He had it all worked out. I'd be sent to a small village in Mogadishu-"

_"Somalia?_ That's a death sentence," Jack replied in outrage. "Someone shoulda told him that!"

"He knew," Daniel said softly. "Said it would be 'God's will' if I survived it." He glanced up at Jack, the hated phrase part of both of them now.

"That's why you were glaring at the shooter... you were baiting him; you _wanted_ him to kill you."

"No," Daniel said firmly. Then he looked away, allowing for the possibility. "I don't know that I considered that consciously," he hedged, "but it would've solved a lot of problems, wouldn't it?"

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Didn't I read somewhere in the fine print that suicide's against some of God's harsher suggestions?"

Daniel shrugged. "In one form or another." It wasn't that he didn't want to go to Africa, and it certainly wasn't that he'd've rather died that take the transfer. It was simply that sending him there wasn't fair. He'd worked hard to rise above his past, to try to do something worthwhile with his life, and Kinsey was condemning him unfairly, to satisfy his own agenda. If he'd said he was taking the pictures to the Archbishop, so that a hearing could be convened, Daniel would've gladly accepted the consequences, be they dismissal or Mogadishu. But this wasn't due process at all. This was pure homophobic vengeance.

"The last priest in the Mogadishu parish died in place, not surprisingly," he said quietly. "It's my duty to go where the Church sends me without question, to try to minister to the people there as best I can under whatever circumstances I find. It's what I'm trained to do. There are estimated to be fewer than one hundred Catholics there in a sea of Islam, a place where it's often deadly to be different. I was willing to go because it's my vocation, but not as punishment for something I did fifteen years ago, in another life.

"I don't know if I'd've been able to help them at all, frankly; they've got so many more pressing problems than whether or not they can recite the catechism or if they ate meat last Friday. But I wasn't being sent over there because I was the best choice for the job; it was a way for Bishop Kinsey to get rid of me and to genuflect to the Cardinal at the same time. He'd've gotten huge political points for sending one of his own into a war-torn country, especially one that doesn't even have a bishop.

"No parish in the country will take me now," Daniel admitted sadly. "When this all comes out, my being gay and also connected to the shootings in the church..." he looked down at his hands and clasped them tightly together, a way of taking the pain out of himself, except it wasn't working as well as he'd've liked. "Even if what you and I did never comes out, I'll know... I'll know." He shook his head, knowing his career was over. "I don't blame them."

He thought about how he'd begged for Jack's dick, for his mouth, how he'd opened his body willingly to deviant sexual acts. Obviously, he'd not been able to put that part of his life -those needs- truly behind him, since he'd reverted to that kind of behavior the moment his conscious memory was gone. How could he ever again counsel his parishioners about resisting temptation when he'd held his legs in the air, begging to be fucked by a complete stranger?

Jack watched him as he worked through the inescapable logic of it, and was desperately saddened by the part he'd played in the whole thing. "You didn't know; neither of us did. You were sick, and if there _is_ a God, then he knows that I haven't touched you since... and that should count for something." His teeth clenched with barely leashed anger; at the situation, at himself. At Daniel for trying to take all the blame, when there was more than enough to go around.

"This is my fault," Jack said bitterly. "I should've kept my hands to myself."

"At least half the blame is mine, Jack. I wasn't exactly playing hard to get."

"I could've said no."

"Resisting temptation is supposed to be part of _my_ job," Daniel said mirthlessly.

"He said you could resign..."

"Well, yeah, technically. But you don't just send God an email-- sorry, but I've changed my mind, this celibacy thing is a little confining, and I seem to really like cock, so I'd like out, if it's all the same to you!" He shook his head resolutely. "No one can relieve me of my vow of celibacy except the Pope."

Jack had a sudden image of taking a trip with Daniel to the Vatican, for an appointment with His Holiness, petition in hand. He shook his head to clear it. They couldn't afford to waste any more time feeling sorry for themselves and for each other. The Catholic Church had been in business for a long time, and it wasn't showing signs of closing up shop anytime soon. There was little to be gained by commiserating about what they couldn't change.

"What did you tell Kinsey?" Jack asked quietly.

"That I'd pray on it and give him my decision that night after evening mass."

"Then what'd you do?"

"Ah... I went to my room in the Rectory-"

"In the basement?"

"Yeah. I called Sam and asked her to meet me for an early dinner. I needed advice, and she's a lawyer as well as a friend."

"Then what?"

"I prayed."

"How long was it until you heard the screaming?"

"I don't really know... a couple of hours, maybe..."

"And you were praying the whole time?"

Frowning, Daniel snapped, "Priests pray a lot; it's what we do." He pursed his lips, ashamed for taking his disappointment and sadness out on Jack. "Why?"

"That would've given Kinsey plenty of time to call his goons and arrange to have you taken out."

Daniel was shaking his head. "I can't believe Bishop Kinsey would even _have_ goons..." he mused quietly.

"He had at least three of them, Daniel, one of whom had a twenty-two aimed at your _head._ I guarantee you he wasn't gonna ask you to pray with him!"

Daniel bowed his head, closing his eyes, his hands folded in his lap in front of him. "Did you kill them all, Jack?" he asked softly.

"Daniel-"

"ANSWER me!" Daniel thundered, not moving. More quietly, he added, _"Please."_

Jack jumped at the uncharacteristic fury and volume, coming from a man he'd only ever seen either gentle or horny. He'd _had_ to kill them, didn't Daniel realize that? He'd back-fisted the first one easily, knocking him out, and then he'd used that guy's weapon on the one by the back door. He'd had to go back and shoot the first guy, because he regained consciousness too soon, and then Daniel had come upstairs into the middle of things, and the third guy took Jack's knife to the throat. They'd all been self-defense. Surely, Daniel's Bible made mention of goddamn extenuating circumstances?

"I went into your church empty-handed, Daniel. I'd left my weapon in the van; I hadn't expected to need it," Jack explained softly. "But yeah, when they started shooting at me, I defended myself. And when the last guy targeted you, I took him out, too. In the same circumstances, I'd do the exact same thing all over again."

Almost imperceptibly, Daniel shook his head, his bearing reeking of sadness, horrified by the blood that had been shed on his behalf. Then he started to pray softly for Jack's sins, and for the souls of the men who'd died by his hand.

When Jack got out of the shower twenty minutes later, Daniel was still sitting on the floor, praying.

Jack took the bed by the door and lay still in the pitch darkness, noticing that not even a faint glow from the neon sign outside made it through the blackout shades. He heard Daniel climb into the bed nearest the bathroom not too long afterward. He cursed Sears, the Vatican, and lastly Daniel, for not staying in the goddamned dressing room like he'd told him to.

Jack realized he was being selfish, that the world needed good men like Daniel, and that he needed to take Daniel somewhere safe and then drop out of sight. But he was having trouble letting go of what they'd found together. Last night at this time, he and Daniel were naked and wrapped up in each other's arms, and Jack thought he'd found a reason to live. If only they hadn't seen that damned picture...

Daniel lay in his bed, feeling more alone than he could remember being in his adult life. A complete one eighty from the night before. He'd lain warm and safe and loved in Jack's arms, and now all that peace and happiness and belonging was gone. Because of who they were. "Oh, Jack..." Daniel whispered sadly to himself.

Jack thought about feigning sleep; it would've been easier for both of them. Smarter, certainly. "I'm here," he whispered from across the room.

But there was no rejoinder to that, only guilty silence.

Jack heard the plea in his head anyway, maybe even in his heart. He knew Daniel couldn't ask, but that didn't mean Jack couldn't offer. Jack left his bed quietly and got into Daniel's, fitting himself easily and perfectly around Daniel's warm, curved, t-shirt covered back. He'd just have to be damn sure he had a tight lid on his libido, concentrating on the fact that he was comforting a priest -a man of God- and not the man he was forbidden to love.

Without a word, Daniel gratefully scooched over a little to give Jack room on the small bed and lifted his head so Jack could slide his arm beneath his pillow. With a sigh, he settled back against Jack's sturdy warmth, covered chastely now by his own brand-new t-shirt. He knew Jack was only holding the man whose body he'd come to know, and not the priest he had every reason to hate.

He felt Jack's other arm come around his shoulder completing the circle of reassurance, and when their fingers interlocked, Daniel knew he could finally sleep. He was grateful for Jack's comfort, but he let himself mourn the loss of the skin contact he'd been craving for years and had enjoyed so very briefly. He didn't want to think about how whole he'd felt the last two days, and how empty he was going to feel when Jack finally left him.

Then he silently said a prayer of contrition for wanting what he had no right to have, knowing that had he the felt the warmth of Jack's bare chest against his back, it would've led to so much more. He wasn't strong enough to deny it anymore.

_'Oh, my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee...'_

*****

"Do we have a plan?" Daniel asked quietly. He'd awakened in Jack's arms and for one brief, shining moment, he'd known blissful happiness. Then it'd all came rushing back to him. They parted without a word and dressed as though complete strangers.

Jack glanced up at Daniel and, for a split second, was tempted to tell him what was in his heart. _Yeah, let's boogie on up to Canada, then connect with some people I know to get money and papers, then disappear into the sunset under assumed names, happily ever after. Whatcha think?_

He cleared his throat self-consciously and went back to cramming his things back into his duffle, making sure his heart was packed up tight in there too. "Let's get the hell outta here and drive. Breakfast a little later."

"And long term?"

Jack looked back up again, completely understanding what he was really asking, and not wanting to go there. At all. Ever.

"Y'mean, like dinner and stuff?"

"Jack-"

"Daniel, _don't,"_ Jack warned. He'd slept with Daniel the night before to provide some kind of comfort, one human being to another. He'd managed to hold Daniel all night long, listening to his gentle snoring, feeling his chest expanding with every breath, breathing in his scent, and not have his own body betray him inappropriately, for which he was extremely grateful. But the cost of that compassion, that vigilance, was Jack's sleep. He hadn't, at all. He was exhausted and pissed off and horny and desperate, not to mention on the fucking edge of his sanity, wanting what he had no right to have.

He was angry with himself for falling in love with Daniel, angry with Daniel for judging him for what had happened in the church _-which was not his goddamned fault-_ and angry with God for _all_ of it.

"We need to work out a plan, but not now; we've already been here too long. Now pack up, use the bathroom, and let's move!"

*****

Breakfast had been uneventful, and they were driving again. And Daniel was tired of the silent treatment.

He shifted in his seat, his back to the door so he could watch Jack's face. "What brought us to that church at the same time, Jack? Have you asked yourself that? Both of us ready to die, wanting to end it--"

"Don't go gettin' all metaphysical on me, Daniel, you know all that 'God' shit gives me a headache."

"Keep telling yourself that, Jack, that it doesn't mean anything, and that you don't believe in a higher power."

"I don't!" Jack snapped, "I believe in myself, and I believe in my training! I believe in the balance of power that I can change with a gun in my hand!" He was on a roll now, decades of ugly life experience, the hurt of a family ruthlessly ripped from him, the pain that would never, _ever_ go away. Somehow, all of his anguish embodied in this one man, this undercover priest, who spouted pious religious doctrine with the same mouth that had swallowed Jack's dick with such loving precision two days ago. A completely different kind of loss, but no less devastating. Jack knew he was losing it.

"That whole water into wine crap? It's a joke, right? How does a smart guy like you with doctorates literally coming out of his _ass_ actually fall for something so lame?"

At least they were talking. "It's called 'faith', Jack. And I'm not about to try to defend Jesus to you; He doesn't need it, and that's not what this is about."

"The hell it isn't," Jack snapped.

Daniel just looked at Jack. He was a handsome man by any definition of the word, his dark hair shortish, like he'd never gotten out of the habit of a military cut, and just starting to gray a little at the temples. Daniel wondered what he'd looked like as a teenager, before he'd gone 'establishment' and cut it all off. He couldn't see Jack's eyes behind the shades, but he had clear memories of their brown depths above him as they'd made love, and he knew he'd see them in his dreams for years to come.

Anger and bitterness had made Jack's face red, the sweat on his temple a little shiny, and Daniel could see his pulse jumping in his neck. It was clear that Jack was furious, but Daniel couldn't quite work out at whom. Based on what little he actually knew of Jack's past, Daniel guessed the target of his anger was God, and that as a priest, the application of that anger fell naturally on him.

_I love this man,_ Daniel thought to himself, _and I would've happily spent the rest of my life with him in complete ignorance of my own identity, if I hadn't seen the picture on the news. But I lost the right to do that the moment I remembered who I really was and what my responsibilities were._

A priest. A 'man of the cloth'. What does that mean? My allegiance is to God, but my responsibility is to whom? Kinsey? I took a vow of obedience to him that should certainly be canceled, based on his actions. But he's immovable; his position within the church is for life. Why would anyone, why would the Archbishop, take my word over Kinsey's?

I have a duty to my congregation, certainly. Mine isn't the only Spanish mass in the diocese, but it's usually well-attended. I believe I've made a positive contribution to my community and to those whose lives I've touched. Doing God's work has been a fulfilling vocation for me for almost a third of my life.

And yet, I am a human being. I am Jack's lover, a flesh and blood man and no more. Perhaps the priest side of me is only a construct, made up of circumstance and inertia and other people's expectations of me?

How can I feel this way, this need, this doubt, this sadness and loss, if I were really called? I must be having a crisis of faith...

 

There are no easy answers. No simple solutions. I really want to hold him right now, feel his skin next to mine, feel his arms around me, his heart beating against my cheek...

"It isn't about God at all," Daniel said quietly. "It's about a corrupt man in a position of authority, with a dangerous amount of influence over impressionable people who trust him because of the collar he wears. He can't be allowed to continue abusing the power of his office."

Jack cast a quick glance at Daniel, hating his own weakness. He was so easily moved by the shaggy-haired priest, it wasn't even funny. He wondered if Daniel was even aware of his own charisma.

Jack had no business in this mess; he had his own problems to deal with, and not inconsequential ones at that. Besides, he had no idea how to unseat a Bishop, or if it were even possible to do. Didn't they pretty much have their jobs forever? Clearly, the only intelligent move would be to leave Daniel somewhere safe, with people he knew, and then cut his losses and get the hell outta Dodge.

"So what's our plan?" Jack sighed.

*****

"Sam? It's me, Daniel."

"Daniel! Oh my god, are you all right? Where-"

"I need to see you; can you meet me? Um-- alone? I'm kinda in a little bit of trouble."

"Where? When?"

"Do you remember where we went after we saw Braveheart last year?"

"I remember. What time?"

"Nine."

"I'll be there."

*****

"You sure you can trust her?" Jack asked, pushing his tray away. The steak sub had been greasy and the fries cold. He hated mall food.

Daniel pulled a French fry from Jack's plate and popped it in his mouth. "I trusted you, so I must be a pretty good judge of character, right?"

Jack just pursed his lips.

"Jack, look, while we're waiting for Sam to show up, I just wanna say-"

"Is that her?"

"What? Where?" Daniel craned his neck through the crowd milling through the food court until he saw her. "Yeah, that's her." As she made her way to their table, Daniel caught Jack's eye. There was so much he wanted to say to him, but every time Daniel opened his mouth to say what was in his heart, something interrupted, or Jack cut him off.

Clearly, Jack knew what was on his mind and wanted no part of it. That broke Daniel's heart a little, but he understood. With all the things Jack had been through in his life, and the fact he clearly blamed God for all of it, it made sense that he'd rather not have a reminder of God around underfoot all the time. He'd just hoped, since Jack was apparently retiring from the assassin business, and since Daniel obviously couldn't be in the God business anymore, that they might retire together somewhere. Apparently, Jack found it so unpleasant to be around him now that he knew Daniel was a priest, that idea didn't even warrant consideration.

Sam hurried through the crowd to where Daniel was sitting with a man in a black leather jacket and ball cap. Daniel wasn't wearing the black suit and collar she was used to seeing him in, and he seemed deep in conversation with the other guy. She got a bad feeling in her gut, but pressed on.

As Sam got closer, Daniel pulled out the chair next to him, but didn't stand. She slid into it like they were just three friends meeting for dinner.

"You okay?" she asked, tossing Daniel a worried glance.

He smiled a little and squeezed her hand. He fingered the healing wound on his temple with his other hand and said wryly, "Yeah, for the most part."

"What the hell happened? Are you hurt? Half the police force is out looking for you; you've been missing for days!" She cast worried glances at the other man at the table. His body was still, but not relaxed by any stretch of the imagination, and his eyes were moving, constantly scanning the crowd.

"Sam, this is my... friend, Jack. There was a bit of a problem at the church the other day-"

"That's an understatement," Sam snapped. "Three people were killed, Daniel, two others wounded, one of them seriously."

Daniel frowned, for the first time letting himself think about the innocent bystanders who'd been involved; members of his congregation, his flock. His responsibility. "I didn't know that..."

Sam looked at Jack. "Do you have something to do with all this?" she demanded.

Jack's eyes narrowed, his hackles rising all at once. "Look, lady-"

"Stop it! Both of you!" Daniel hissed. "This isn't the time or the place!" He looked at Sam and lowered his voice. "Jack happened to be in the confessional when the gunmen came into the church; they were looking for me."

"For _you?"_

"Look," he said, taking her closest hand in both of his and engaging her gaze earnestly, so she'd stop glaring at Jack. "I've got a lot to tell you and not much time. Jack helped me get away from them, because I'd been injured. The reason I haven't called you before now is that up until yesterday afternoon, I didn't even know my own name; I didn't remember everything that led up to the shooting until very late last night."

He deliberately left out the part where he and Jack had become intimate almost immediately. He knew it'd come out eventually, but he didn't want to cloud the issue with that just yet. "Once I remembered the conversation I'd had with the Bishop and then Jack and I'd put two and two together, I knew we had to figure out a way to get Kinsey to admit that he'd arranged it somehow."

"Bishop Kinsey?" she whispered incredulously. "What do you mean he arranged it?"

"He's the one who set it up, Sam," Daniel said softly. "I'm sure of it."

Sam's mind was racing with the implications of a Catholic Bishop arranging a murder for hire, but she'd known Daniel a lot of years, and she trusted him. "Can you prove it?"

"Not exactly," Daniel hedged. "I was hoping you could use your office to help us come up with a way-"

"I'm in the business of putting criminals away," she interrupted, "not setting up stings to catch them."

"She's the _DA?"_ Jack hissed at Daniel incredulously.

"Jack..." Daniel said patiently under his breath. "Your prejudice is showing."

Jack clenched his teeth. "It's not prejudice, Daniel, it's called _common sense-"_

"I'm an _Assistant_ DA, if that makes you feel any better," Sam corrected him pointedly. "Now, you wanna tell me what _you_ happened to be doing in the church, Jack? And by the way, do you have a last name?"

Jack looked her up and down. She was attractive enough, Jack supposed, but she was mouthy and getting on his nerves. "In-The- _Box,"_ he replied with a sneer. Then to Daniel, "I got you home to your family; I think my job here is done." He started to scoot his chair back to stand up, but Daniel laid a warm palm on the back of Jack's hand.

"Please..."

Jack's lips thinned. "Daniel..."

"Jack..."

Sam watched the verbal byplay and its undertones with interest. Jack was someone important to Daniel, and Daniel apparently trusted him. She needed to take a step back if she were going to find out what had been going on with her friend. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Sometimes I get a little-"

"Pushy?" Jack shot back. "Argumentative? Annoying?"

"Over-enthusiastic," Sam countered firmly with an arched brow.

"Will you both just settle down?" Daniel asked tiredly, looking at each of them. "So we can figure out what to do next?"

Sam nodded, Jack shrugged, and Daniel figured that was the best he was going to get.

"We can't do this here," Jack said softly, still scanning the cavernous food court. There were too many entrances; he felt too exposed.

"Motel?" Daniel whispered.

Jack's eyes flickered across Sam's features once before he nodded.

"Sam, will you come with us somewhere we can speak more freely?"

It was the only way she was going to figure out what the hell happened in the church, and what tall, dark and Rasputin had to do with it all. "Yeah, sure. Lead on."

*****

Sam sat in the back seat of the crew cab, watching the two men in the front. They didn't speak, but she could feel the undercurrent of something between them. They drove south about twenty minutes, to a Days Inn, and Jack parked the truck.

"You two out first," Jack instructed quietly as he turned off the engine and scanned the parking lot with trained eyes.

Without a word, Daniel got out and headed for their room, checking over his shoulder to see that Sam was following him. He opened the door and stepped aside to let Sam through, then closed it, leaving the lights off.

"Daniel-"

"Jack said to leave the lights off till he got here," Daniel answered.

"That's fine," she said, tossing her purse onto the dresser and shrugging out of her jacket. "I guess you've got a pretty good reason for hiding from the authorities. What I want to know is, are you okay? Who is that man? Has he hurt you in some way?" She came to him and pulled her friend into a hug.

Daniel held her back as tightly as he could, burying his face in her neck. She was as close to a big sister as he'd ever had; they'd gotten really close at Harvard, and he trusted her with his life. "No, he hasn't hurt me, Sam. Jack saved my life and probably the lives of everybody else in the sanctuary that night."

"You have to tell me what's going on," she said urgently, feeling the tension in Daniel's body. "I want to help, but I can't do much without some facts-"

"Well. Isn't this cozy," Jack said from the door. He closed and locked it and then snapped on the dim light. "If I'm interrupting something..."

"Jack, don't be an ass," Daniel snapped, pulling away from his friend with a final squeeze. "Sam knows I'm gay."

"Ah." He shrugged his coat off and carefully laid it over the arm of the couch, which he sank down on with a great sigh. He put his feet up on the coffee table, one heavy boot at a time. "Don't mind me, I'll just sit over here and try not to be an ass." He folded his hands across his middle and looked on expectantly.

With a glare at Jack, Daniel took one of the chairs at the small table, and Sam took the other. "Where to start..." he muttered to himself. He set his glasses on the table between them and scrubbed his face with his hands, then ran his fingers through his hair. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to chop it all off.

"Okay," he said, blowing out a breath. "I guess it all started Sunday afternoon. If there was something before that, I wasn't aware of it. Bishop Kinsey called me into his office to show me some pictures of me someone had sent him..."

Sam listened with quiet horror for several minutes before she interrupted. "Oh my god, Daniel, if I'd've met with you as soon as you called me, he wouldn't've had time to get those men over there!"

Daniel took her hand. "Don't. He would've found another time to do it, Sam, and maybe more people would've died. Second-guessing this isn't going to get us anywhere. The timing happened the way it did for a reason. In fact, I have to believe that's the way God wanted it to happen."

On the couch, Jack snorted scornfully.

Daniel slowly turned to him. "Did you have something useful to add?" he asked tightly.

"Yeah, actually, I do," Jack said, narrowing his eyes. "Why was the confessional unattended?"

"I thought you said you didn't come to my church looking for forgiveness."

The phrase 'my church' caused Jack's gut to clench, but he tried to ignore it. "I _didn't._ But doesn't the sign in the vestibule say that the confessional's usually manned Sunday afternoons?"

"Yes," Daniel said slowly, starting to see where Jack was headed. "That's usually my shift-"

"Which is why Kinsey sent his goons in then, figuring minimal traffic, and you'd be in the box."

"But I'd switched with Steven that day, so I could meet Sam for dinner-"

"Steven...?"

"Steven Rayner; one of the other Parochial Vicars; there are four of us, because the congregation's so large. I asked Steven to switch with me, so I could meet with Sam."

"Yeah? So why wasn't he on the ball then?"

"I have no idea," Daniel mused with a frown.

"The police report listed two people dead of gunshot wounds, another by a knife wound to the throat," Sam added helpfully. "All three guns were found, the knife was not. No IDs on any of them yet."

"The knife wound would be Evan Buschette," Daniel said quietly. "He's the one I spoke to just before..." Daniel swallowed hard, but pushed on, "just before he shot me, and I hit my head. Evan said 'Bobby' told him I'd be there and paid him 150 dollars, presumably to kill me."

"Bobby?" Sam asked.

"Robert Kinsey."

"But you can't prove that. Bobby's an incredibly common name-"

"The man confessed he was there for Daniel!" Jack nearly shouted, coming up off the couch toward the table.

"And then you _killed_ him!" Sam shot back, clearly not intimidated. "Preventing him from telling us who hired him. That pretty much leaves us right back where we started, doesn't it?!"

Jack turned to Daniel. "I thought you said she," he gestured toward the woman with a dismissive thumb, "could help fix this. I don't call this being very helpful," he snapped.

"That's enough," Daniel said softly as he stood up to place himself in between them. A casual side step brought him toe to toe with Jack, Sam still seated behind him. He was pretty sure Jack wouldn't hit a woman, but he wasn't as confident of Sam's restraint in her current mood. He looked up at Jack through long lashes. "Is there a vending machine nearby? I could really use a Coke."

Jack wondered who Daniel was trying to protect. He also wondered if Daniel realized just how provocative he was being in front of his friend. Daniel had said his body reacted to his across the room; Jack wanted to know what Daniel's body was doing right this minute...

"Yeah, sure," Jack said tightly. With one last glare over Daniel's shoulder at the woman, Jack turned and grabbed his jacket off the couch and then left the room.

Sam placed a gentle hand on Daniel's arm. "Talk to me," she begged.

Daniel didn't face her and spoke very softly. "We have to do this without him; he can't be part of whatever it is we decide to do."

"Daniel, he was in the church. He's the one who killed all three of the gunmen - like it or not, he _is_ part of this!"

Daniel shook his head firmly as he turned to her. "No. He came into my church looking for sanctuary, because he was expecting to die. He originally thought the government agency he works for had sent those men for _him._ He wasn't armed," Daniel explained carefully. "He was _defending_ us."

"That's fine, Daniel. I'm willing to go with manslaughter, and if he truly protected you from Buschette, then that'll probably mitigate his sentence, but-"

"You're not hearing me," Daniel said, taking her gently by the shoulders. "The people he works for want him dead, because he didn't follow their orders. They're looking for him. He's-"

"You're protecting him, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am," he said quietly as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Why?"

_Because Jack wanted to stop killing; he was only defending me..._ "Because I believe it's the right thing to do."

"You don't owe him anything."

Daniel huffed softly. "You're wrong about that." The entire episode now appeared to be a giant beacon to Daniel. He firmly believed that God had put hesitation in Jack's heart so that he'd turn away from his life of government-sanctioned assassination, and that same hand of God had guided Jack to Daniel's church at that moment. There was simply no other way to explain how Daniel had escaped with only a grazing wound-- not with three men loaded for bear, guns bent on ending his life right there in his own church.

Frustrated, Sam sighed heavily. "What do you want to do?"

Daniel shrugged. "I'm determined to expose Kinsey, but after that, I don't have any special plans. Why? You got an opening in the DA's office for a de-frocked priest?"

"Daniel, you were the victim here; why would the Church dismiss you? What Kinsey did was blackmail and murder-for-hire, pure and simple. There's no way you're at fault for _any_ of that."

"No, but there's other stuff I do have to accept responsibility for... before my memory returned." He looked her directly in the eye, feeling no shame for what he and Jack had done. He was sure _that_ had been part of God's plan as well. "I slept with him, Sam. And maybe more damning than that, I've fallen in love with him. I'm pretty sure he was about to ask me to run away somewhere with him just before we saw my photograph on the news and everything went to hell. I would've gone wherever he'd asked me to go."

She wasn't shocked; she'd felt the connection between them from the first moment she'd seen them together. "But you didn't know who you were then, what you are," she argued earnestly. "If you confess it and repent-"

"I didn't care; don't you get it?" he explained urgently, "I just wanted to be _with_ him. I still do. I couldn't, in all good conscience ask for forgiveness for _any_ of it!" He took a breath and blew it out. "But none of that matters anymore... he's made it clear he isn't interested in pursuing a relationship with me."

"I don't understand."

Daniel shrugged sadly. "Jack despises my profession... with good reason, I suppose." What Jack saw now, whenever he looked at him, was not a man, or a lover, but a priest. All because of another priest who, with all good intentions, had given Jack, in his moment of deepest despair, the 'sometimes bad things happen to good people' platitude, completely blowing the credibility of the Church, and therefore a benevolent God, in Jack's eyes.

He regarded her shocked expression with interest; he supposed he should be getting used to people looking at him like he'd lost his mind, giving up his place in the church perhaps even in heaven- for a killer. But it was a very basic equation, one that he'd been struggling with since the moment they'd seen those images of himself on that TV.

"Being a priest requires that you give yourself totally -body, mind, and spirit- to God," he explained gently. "I can't do that anymore, Sam; I gave all of that to Jack."

"In two _days?"_ she asked incredulously.

His lips quirked a bit, into a small, embarrassed, not-quite a smile. "It didn't even take _that_ long," he admitted softly.

"God, Daniel, what're you gonna do?"

"Whatever I have to in order to out Kinsey," he said determinedly. "After that..." he shrugged, "I really don't have any idea."

"You finished talkin' 'bout me yet," Jack asked quietly, "or should I go on another ridiculously transparent errand?" Jack knew Daniel would've told the woman about their having sex; he wondered if she'd have the balls to say something to him about it.

"Yes, we're finished talking about you," Daniel said with sad affection. He took two of the Cokes from Jack and handed one to Sam. "And thanks for these. Now," he said, popping the top and taking a deep drink, "what's the plan?"

"It's simple," Jack proposed, flopping down onto the couch again. "We go into Denver, I off him, and you move up a spot."

Daniel sighed sadly. Of course that would be Jack's preferred plan; his whole life revolved around what amounted to vigilante justice and taking the law into his own hands, forcing an outcome according to someone else's idea of what was fair and just. "Rising in the hierarchy only works that way for Klingons, Jack," Daniel replied softly. "I don't want there to be any more killing."

"We have to follow the law," Sam insisted to both of them. "There are procedures for what happens next." She counted them off on her fingers, "Figure out probable cause, find a sympathetic judge to sign a warrant for a wire -which, in mostly-Catholic Denver is gonna be quite a trick- laying out a trap, and then making a tight enough case for a jury to convict and set punishment."

"Oh, isn't that just like a woman," Jack complained, "needing to dot all the 'i's' and cross all the 't's', while half the time, the bad guy gets away scot free-"

"I know it's not a perfect system," Sam conceded tightly, "and sometimes the bad guy does get away, but it's the only system we've got."

"No it's not, Sam," Daniel said, quietly disagreeing with both of them. "Romans 12:19--'vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord'. That's the best system," Daniel said softly. "It's not up to us to punish Kinsey at all."

Jack looked at Daniel, sitting serenely at the small table with his hands folded in front of him, and recognized that he'd lost yet another battle to the stubborn young man. One that could cost Daniel his life.

*****

As plans went, it was ridiculously simple-- Daniel was going to stroll into Kinsey's office and confront him. They'd spent more than an hour hashing out the few alternatives there were, and this was the best they could come up with.

Sam had explained that as an officer of the court, she had to follow procedure, one that couldn't go anywhere, since they didn't have enough probable cause, due to their critical shortage of witnesses. With all three of the original shooters dead, and the one who'd tracked Daniel to the alley that first night gone without a trace, they had no witnesses other than Jack, who hadn't heard the words exchanged between Daniel and Evan in the first place. And given his occupation of late, not to mention his current relationship with Daniel, they all agreed Jack didn't make a terrific witness anyway.

This was the only plan Daniel would let them have, and the bulk of the risk was to him alone. He refused to let Sam compromise her ethics by lying to get the warrant for the wire. When Jack suggested Daniel wear one, not for admissible evidence, but just so he and Sam would know if Kinsey tried something, Daniel had shot that idea down as well. "What if he does?" Daniel had asked quietly. "Or what if he says something that pisses you off, which I think is extremely likely. What will you do? Come in shooting? I can't let any more blood be shed for me."

"This plan sucks ass," Jack said authoritatively the minute Sam had excused herself to use the bathroom.

"It's the best we can do, with what little we have to go on," Daniel said reasonably. "It'll be fine."

Jack got right up close to Daniel and spoke in hushed tones, the tone of his voice betraying his genuine concern. "And how do you know Kinsey doesn't have a weapon in his office? Men in a room in the back ready to make you disappear for good? You're an embarrassment, Daniel; never underestimate how badly people want to maintain the status quo."

"I have to do this," Daniel told him softly.

"You're putting your life in her hands," Jack snapped, hating that he was leaving Daniel's safety to a bureaucratic functionary. "You're relying on her to be able to get the cops there in time-"

"And I will," Sam interrupted tightly, coming out of the bathroom and pushing past Daniel, itching to give Jack a piece of her mind. "Part of the reason this case is so flimsy is because Daniel's busy protecting _you._ Never forget that." She stopped right in front of Jack, daring him to say something to contradict her. She wanted to put him away; it was killing her to do as Daniel asked and let him dodge three manslaughter charges for the bigger fish, Kinsey.

Daniel folded his arms across his chest and grunted tiredly. "As amusing as it would be to see which one of you wins this pissing match, I'm really beat. Can we go now?"

Angrily, Jack grabbed his keys off the table and flicked off the lights. "I'll go ahead first and check things out. Give me five minutes, and then you two come out."

*****

Sam noticed that Daniel was asleep, stretched out on the back seat with his head propped against the window, even before they got out onto the highway, and figured this was as good a time as any to say what she had on her mind. "So when this is over you're just gonna walk out on him?" she demanded under her breath.

Jack glanced over at her, and then fixed his eyes on the road. It was late, he'd had exactly zero sleep in the last twenty-four hours, and he had a strong urge to gag her. "So what's your story?" he asked, deliberately ignoring her question. "You his sister? An old girlfriend, maybe?"

"I'm his friend, and I don't want to see him get hurt."

"Good. Then do your job, stay sharp, and make sure that dickwad Kinsey doesn't get a second shot at him."

"And how do I protect him from _you?"_

"You won't have to worry about me for much longer, lady," Jack assured her.

"You've already hurt him," she accused. "Thanks to your licentious ways, he's fallen in love with you."

Jack's jaw went hard. He'd strongly suspected that, of course, but hearing it from a third party, particularly one who felt this protective of Daniel, somehow made it more difficult to bear. "It was the first sex he'd had in almost a decade; of course he's enamored," Jack replied softly. "He'll get over it."

She folded her arms across her chest, making an effort to remain calm. "Well, he'll certainly have plenty of time to think about it, since he's leaving the priesthood, _also_ thanks to you."

Jack shrugged. "They'll probably give him one of the standard 'Let's Make a Deal' punishments, repeated a hundred times while standing on one leg, and then he'll go back to what he was doing," Jack said confidently. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"You're wrong," she said humorlessly. "The way he explained it to me, you've taken his heart, and he has nothing left to give to God."

That _did_ surprise him. He glanced over at her angry face, and then trained his eyes back on the highway. In about five more minutes, he'd drop them both off at her car, and he'd be flying solo again. He planned to have a motel room all to himself for more than a dozen hours. He'd sleep and shower and try to get some emotional distance back before it was time to put the Kinsey plan into action. After that, they'd part ways forever.

"He'll probably change his mind once I'm outta the picture," Jack said tiredly. "And if not, well, he's old enough to make up his own mind about that, too."

"Look," she said, lowering her voice even more. She hoped she sounded sufficiently threatening and venomous, but Rasputin didn't seem like he scared easily. "I know what he went through to turn his life around after Ska'ara, and I saw what becoming a priest meant to him; it was his whole life. Now, I'm going to try to put this scum Kinsey away for what he did, but I don't know how much cooperation I'm gonna get, considering the fact that the entire judicial system in that part of the state is staunchly Catholic. The best I may be able to hope for is for the Vatican to recall him to quell the publicity."

Jack pulled to a stop at the traffic light outside the mall where Sam had left her car. "What's your point?" he asked acidly.

She leaned closer to him and whispered, "Daniel's my friend, and I want what's best for him. You have to know this is killing me to say this, but I'm not sure that's the Church anymore."

Jack looked away from her, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. "Give him time. He'll forget all about me," Jack said sadly, watching for the light to change. "I don't have a real bright future as it stands. It'd be for the best if he just moved on. Found someone else."

She leaned back, her lips in a tight, thin line and folded her arms across her chest again. "Huh. You're every bit the bastard I pegged you for on sight," she hissed.

"And you have _so_ hurt my feelings," Jack retorted sotto voce, shoving the truck into park. Sam didn't waste any time getting out, slamming the door behind herself, and striding to her car without a backwards glance.

"We there?" came a sleepy voice from the back seat.

"Yeah, buddy, this is it," Jack said as neutrally as he could. His hackles were jumping around in overdrive, but he didn't know if that was because he felt nervous handing Daniel's safety over to this... _person,_ or because he was letting Daniel walk out of his life.

Daniel leaned forward, catching Jack's eyes in the rear-view mirror. He'd known there wouldn't be a real goodbye, a hug or a kiss or just a simple squeeze of the hand, but being dropped off in a parking lot felt detached and cold, and worse, this felt like denial, which was the one thing he couldn't live with. He reached over the seat and stroked the backs of his knuckles down Jack's right cheek, whispering, "I love you, Jack," before he grabbed the bag Jack had bought for him and slipped out of the truck.

Jack forced himself to remain still and quiet, following Daniel with only his eyes as he hurried to Sam's gray Volvo. Once they'd driven away and the taillights were no longer visible, Jack did a visual sweep of the rest of the parking lot. He let out his held breath as he shifted back into gear. "It's better this way..." he muttered out loud.

He wondered how many times he'd have to say it before he eventually believed it.

******

Jack checked into a motel in town to try and get some sleep. Daniel had gone to stay at Sam's place, and the plan was to commence tomorrow at sixteen hundred hours. It relied on Sam getting hardware for the two of them and finding a secure, nearby place to wait while the scam went down. Then she was to be the public face for them.

Jack _hated_ this plan.

*****

Sam knew it was dangerous trying to do this on their own, but she was positive the District Attorney wouldn't permit her to set up a sting to catch his golf buddy, Bishop Kinsey, in the act of committing a felony or two. The only chance they had to catch him was for Daniel to act as the bait and to rely on Jack to spring the trap.

Sam _hated_ this plan.

******

Daniel curled up on his side on the couch in Sam's dark apartment, pulling the blanket up to his chin, wishing he could feel Jack's arms around him one last time. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the years he'd been in the seminary, and the things they'd taught him. The way they'd programmed each of the seminarians to look to God for their every need-- spiritual, emotional, as well as physical. He'd tried to explain it to Jack on the way back to Denver to get Sam, but he'd stubbornly refused to get it...

_'They train you not to need physical touch. All that pretty much stopped for me when my parents died anyway.'_

'How can you train a person not to have skin hunger, not to need to put their arms around someone they care about? Not to need to be touched?'

 

'You retreat into prayer -a lot of it- to feel God touching you spiritually.'

'But that's no substitute for a hug.'

 

'It is... it was.'

'What about...'

'The baser needs?'

'Are you allowed to y'know... touch yourself?'

'It's a sin any way you look at it, and therefore strongly discouraged; it's understood that sometimes we all succumb to temptation. Then we seek forgiveness through confession and penance, the same as for any other serious transgression.'

'I thought God made sex enjoyable on purpose.'

'He did; so men and women would seek each other out and procreate. Pope Paul VI said, 'All deliberate use of sexuality must be reserved for normal conjugal relations'. That means jerking off's forbidden. It's that whole, 'be fruitful and multiply' thing.'

'Other faiths allow their religious practitioners to marry, have families, be human.'

'I don't make the rules, Jack.'

And it didn't matter anyway; one way or another, after tomorrow, he'd never see Jack again.

Daniel _hated_ this plan.

*****

Sam was gone most of the morning, putting in an appearance at work and acquiring the communication devices they'd need, which left Daniel alone in her apartment. He showered and prayed and tried not to think about Jack. She came back around lunchtime, they ate and reminisced about Harvard, and Daniel tried not to think about Jack.

At four PM, when it was time, Sam dropped him off at the back of his church, and then parked a block over to wait for Jack and hope it all didn't blow up in their faces.

Daniel made it to his room in the Rectory without running into anyone, figuring that was God's way of helping them do what they had to do. He closed the door, his heart hammering in his chest. _Phase one accomplished,_ he thought. He undressed quickly and pulled a fresh, black suit from his closet. He didn't falter until he started to button up the matching black shirt.

He caught his reflection in the mirror over his dresser and saw the deep purple hickey Jack had made that first night on the side of his neck... he closed his eyes and imagined he could feel Jack's lips moving against his skin, gathering it between his teeth, sucking _hard_ as he drove into him again and again. _I say when..._

Daniel opened his eyes, ashamed to find himself erect while dressed in the clothes in which he served God. He knew he had no moral right to wear them anymore, and he told himself this was the last time, and only for the good of the Church, only to trap Kinsey. The theory was that the Bishop would be so incensed to see Daniel disgracing the collar he'd do something thoughtless and walk into the trap.

Daniel finished buttoning the black shirt and flipped the collar up. With the thrill of vulgar shame, he slid the white tab into place in front of his throat and secured it with studs, then folded the rest back down over it. The high black collar completely covered the marks Jack'd made on Daniel's neck with his teeth, leaving Daniel only the pain of the bruise and the equally painful memories that went with it.

*****

Jack approached Sam's Volvo from the driver's side, figuring she'd see him in the side mirror. He stopped at the back, glancing around quickly, taking in the lay of the land, then lightly tapped the trunk. He saw her nod in the mirror, so he approached the window. Her hand came out, and he snagged what was in it without slowing his stride.

He slid into an alley around the corner and set the receiver in his ear. Tapping it twice, he received three taps in return; the channel was open and working. All that was left was for Jack to make his way into the church without anyone seeing him.

*****

Daniel had no way to know whether or not Jack and Sam were in position, but he figured that's what faith was for, right? It had gotten him this far, anyway.

He made his way down the hall to the Bishop's office, fully expecting him to be there. It was Thursday afternoon, and although Kinsey was responsible for all the churches within his diocese, and had an official office in the Church's administrative building downtown, his schedule always put him at the Holy Redeemer on Thursday afternoons.

Daniel knocked on the open door, seeing Maria, Kinsey's assistant, seated at her desk typing. She glanced up and did a double take, letting out a stream of tearful Spanish about the fact that the formerly missing Father Daniel was suddenly there in front of her.

He greeted her warmly, accepting her hugs as he assured her he was fine. Before he could ask her to announce him to the Bishop, the inner door opened at the sound of the commotion and there Kinsey stood. The look on his face suggested he was more than a little surprised to see Daniel standing in his office. The surprise was immediately covered by feigned pleasure.

"This is a wondrous miracle, Father Daniel," Kinsey said in his most bombastic tone as he extended his hand.

Daniel approached him and took the offered hand, bending into a shallow bow out of habit. "Your Excellency."

"Please, come in!" Kinsey exclaimed, ushering Daniel into his office and closing the door behind him.

Wearing his best painted-on, political smile, Kinsey steered Daniel to the office visitor's chair and then seated himself behind the huge, carved mahogany desk. "Sit down and tell me where you've been, what happened in the sanctuary on Sunday, what did the police say? I _assume_ you've gone to the police..."

Daniel sat as instructed, but crossed his legs and got comfortable instead of remaining rigidly upright as was proper to do. It was subtle body language, but Daniel could see by the narrowing of Kinsey's eyes that he'd picked up on it.

"Let's cut though all the disingenuous inanity, shall we?" Daniel suggested as he folded his hands across his knee, hoping he was conveying a serenity he certainly wasn't feeling at the moment. "We both know that what happened here on Sunday afternoon was your doing."

Kinsey's smile faltered a bit and his eyes narrowed further. "I'm afraid I don't understand..."

"I'm talking about blackmail, Bishop, and the ultimatum you gave me on Sunday morning-- either resign quickly and quietly, or accept a transfer to Mogadishu."

Kinsey's smile was gone, and in its place was suspicion and barely-leashed anger. "I hardly think our discussion warrants the label 'blackmail', Father," Kinsey said tightly. "I thought we both agreed that the embarrassing nature of those photographs, should they be made public somehow, would compromise your ability to minister to your congregation. It was my understanding that you preferred the posting to Somalia to humiliation and censure-"

"Somalia," Daniel interrupted, "where it would be 'God's will if I survived', I think were your exact words." Daniel looked at Kinsey's face, at the steely gray of his eyes, and saw only the visage of Satan himself.

"There are a lot of... _your kind_... over there," Kinsey enunciated carefully. "You'd have a lot in common with the people."

"My _kind_?" Daniel asked, his lips thinning. "Priests, you mean? People who are multi-lingual? Folks of Dutch extraction who suffer from hay fever, perhaps?" He saw Kinsey's look of disgust, and it pushed all the wrong buttons. "Or do you mean men who like cock?"

"That's coarse and vulgar and completely unnecessary," Kinsey spat, "but it proves my point, I think. You lied about the transitory nature of your sexual experiences, and therefore your ordination was a complete fraud, and an embarrassment to my diocese. You don't belong here, Daniel, and yes, _your kind_ most _certainly_ does not belong in the pulpit."

Daniel stood up, slid one hand into the pocket of his slacks and paced to the window, drawing the curtain aside a bit to look outside. _In the springtime, the roses in this garden are so beautiful. What a miracle they can flourish next to such ugliness..._

He turned to face his accuser. "You can't even say the word, can you, Bishop? I'm gay. Homosexual. It's who I am; it's the way God made me. I can't change it; I wouldn't if I could, and to apologize for God's work would be arrogant in the extreme, don't you think?"

"I think you need to reconsider your language, Father Daniel," Kinsey said tightly.

"It must kill you to call me that," Daniel observed softly, "with your supremacist belief that anyone who isn't like you isn't worthy of being alive, or of making a contribution to society. I won't bore you with a litany of how gay men and women have made contributions to the world throughout history, because I have better things to do with my day." He consulted his watch. "I believe it's time to open the Confessional."

Daniel started toward the door, then turned, his hand on the knob. "And to answer your earlier question, no, I haven't gone to the police about what happened. What I do now is entirely dependant on _your_ next move."

"Are you threatening me, Father?" Kinsey asked coldly, fingering the heavy crucifix that hung from a cord around his neck.

"I'm sure it sounds that way, Bishop Kinsey, but I assure you not. I have only the Church's welfare at heart, and I'd hate to see her awash in scandal. You see, I spoke to Evan Buschette just before he tried to blow my head off, and he admitted to me that you'd hired him. My guess is that you couldn't be certain I'd take the transfer without making a formal complaint to the archdiocese, and you decided to make sure I'd be permanently out of your way."

Daniel looked with genuine curiosity at Kinsey, who merely glared at him through slitted eyes. "I can't imagine how you justify blackmail and murder during your daily devotions," Daniel said softly. "I don't understand how you can call yourself a man of the cloth at all, but then I'm just a lowly vicar, and the politics of the Church is pretty far out of my league."

"I assume you have a point," Kinsey said acidly.

"Of course; how rude of me to prattle on so. My _point,_ as you say, is this. If you go to the Archbishop immediately and confess your part in what happened in the Sanctuary on Sunday, then I'm willing to abide by his ruling on the subject. Feel free to take the photographs with you, of course; I have nothing to hide. If, however, you haven't done so by the time tonight's evening meal is served, I will be forced to go to the police and tell them what I know. It's completely up to you how public and nasty this gets."

Daniel made a small nod of his head, a mockery more than an attempt at a formal bow. "Your Excellency."

*****

Daniel made his way upstairs to the sanctuary on legs made of jelly. He told himself it didn't matter one way or the other, Kinsey was going down soon, and that was the goal. With both his chosen vocation and the man he loved forever out of his reach, it didn't really matter what happened to him when the photographs eventually came out.

He tried to concentrate on just putting one foot in front of the other. The plan was for him to sit in the confessional until something happened, 'something' probably involving a certain amount of violence. He cringed, thinking about more blood being shed on his behalf, but reconciled himself to the necessity for it, by keeping in mind the greater good; that the malignancy that was Robert Kinsey wouldn't spread any further.

And there was always the possibility that Jack would miss or be late and the shooter would find his mark this time, taking it all out of Daniel's hands anyway. _God's will be done..._

*****

From his hiding place in an alcove just outside the vestry, Jack opened the small canvas bag with gloved fingers that had done this way too many times, and set about assembling his weapon. Stock into the receiver with one practiced movement, then the custom-made, silenced barrel with the next. In less than half a minute, he was ready.

He looked up as Daniel walked into the sanctuary. He'd come up the stairs in the main entrance of the church and stopped at the beginning of the center aisle. Holding onto the end of the last pew, he bent one knee gracefully and genuflected. Eyes glued to the cross over the altar, he straightened up and purposefully strode forward on the crimson carpet.

Jack's jaw dropped as he watched Daniel's focused march to the front of the church that was his home, his office. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to Jack that Daniel would probably look priest-like while on duty.

For Jack, the word 'priest' summoned images of cardboard figures spouting useless platitudes and condemnation of anyone who didn't toe the line. People who were more than happy to tell you how to live your life when they'd had precious little life experience of their own to draw upon; little more than talking heads mouthing the Vatican's manifesto.

The suit was a symbol of everything Jack hated.

And there Daniel was, striding up the center aisle dressed in the uniform of his profession, and Jack was momentarily dumbfounded by his own conflicting emotions. Knee jerk reaction aside, the suit inexplicably made Daniel look older. Taller, somehow. Powerful and wise. He was a handsome man in all respects and in any garb, but in the priest suit, he looked devout and untouchable and so very tempting.

Jack felt his dick begin to lengthen as Daniel stepped into one of the pews near the front and bent to the kneeler. He crossed himself again and folded his hands together, bowing his head to pray. From this angle, Jack could see Daniel's face, lost in prayer, the wire frames of his glasses glinting from underneath his hair in the lights from the high ceiling of the sanctuary, neck bent, back straight and proud.

_So beautiful._

_Dear God Almighty, how many Hail Mary's would I have to say for lusting after this priest_? Jack marveled grimly. He wondered if divine lightning might actually strike him here inside the church for the mere thought of all the things he'd like to do to Daniel while he was wearing that outfit.

Jack waited and watched, numbing silence in the ear with the receiver in it. He was used to waiting; used to keeping one eye and ear tuned to the subject, the other to his surroundings. What he wasn't used to was watching someone he'd developed feelings for using himself as live chum, hoping the sharks would show up to have him for dinner.

Daniel knew Jack was hiding in the vestry watching him, and forced himself not to look in that direction. He crossed himself again, whispering, "In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, amen," then stood and made his way through the pews to the confessional on the left. Once inside, he sat and flipped the switch for the light outside the cubicle and continued to pray silently as he waited.

*****

The waiting seemed interminable, and Jack's bum right knee was starting to lock up and cause him some pain, so when the receiver in Jack's ear finally crackled with a quiet _'Head's up'_ from Sam, Jack was almost startled. Obviously, she'd moved her car around to the front of the church as they'd planned and was now watching the entrance.

Jack watched a lone individual enter through the huge double doors in the back of the church. He paused while still in the vestibule and did a visual sweep of the apparently empty sanctuary. Jack used his monocular to get a really good look at him. Greasy, slicked-back hair, receding hairline, pointy nose, Jack instantly made him as the man who'd jumped Daniel in the alley Sunday night. He knew Slick wasn't a pro by the way he accepted his initial look around as proof the enormous church was clear. Too many places for someone to hide. Jack figured that soon enough, the guy'd learn that the hard way. Like today.

With the air of someone who regularly went to confession, Slick made his way to the aisle on the far side of the sanctuary, casually looking around the opulent room, but focused on getting to the box. His right arm was stationary as it disappeared into the deep pocket of his duster, probably indicating that whatever caliber weapon he was using had a silencer on it.

Jack knew he had only moments. He took aim and waited for Slick's torso to torque his way as he continued his trek up the leftmost aisle.

After that, everything moved very quickly.

One shot, one tiny 'pop' of a sound that would've gone completely unnoticed anywhere other than in an empty church with all the acoustics of a recording studio. The shooter's right hip took the hit, twisting his body even further Jack's way, and he stumbled and went down out of Jack's sight behind the pews.

Jack sprinted the considerable width of the sanctuary and was standing behind the guy before the wounded man could even get his bearings. He placed the toe of his boot firmly against the back of the man's neck to keep him from turning around, and exerted a little firm pressure as he rested the tip of his weapon against the man's skull. "Do it, Slick," Jack challenged quietly. "Go ahead and make a move for your gun, so I can kill ya."

The shooter let out a pained grunt, holding out an empty left hand. "Fuck you!" he spat.

"No, thanks; you're not my type. Onto your belly, _now._ Take your other hand out of your pocket. Nice and slow." Slick complied, laying face down with both hands planted firmly on the floor over his head.

"Jack?" Daniel murmured from inside the closed confessional.

"Stay put!" Jack snapped. He knelt quickly, divested the wounded man of his weapon and patted him down, assuring he had no more. He pulled a beat up roll of duct tape from his jacket pocket, placed a strip of it across the man's mouth, and proceeded to truss the man's wrists behind him, after which he bound his ankles together. He picked up Slick's automatic and started unscrewing the silencer.

"Now," he said conversationally to the squirming, whimpering man, "You don't know me, but I'm a very thorough kinda guy. The _only_ reason you aren't dead right this minute is because I want you to talk. You and I both know who hired you to hurt the priest and why. You will testify to the authorities and do everything in your power to put that hypocritical asshole behind bars. If I find out you haven't been extremely cooperative with the cops, I'll be back to finish the job, one body part at a time, and no amount of witness protection in the world will be able to help you. Capiche?"

Jack could see that the man's eyes were wide with fear and tearing uncontrollably now from the agony in his hip. He nodded as best he could with his left cheek mashed against the marble floor.

"Good boy," Jack said, patting him on his greasy head. He tossed the silencer aside and raised Slick's weapon, firing a single, reverberating shot toward the ceiling.

"Jack..." Daniel waited, his heart pounding, desperate for Jack's response, but all he could hear was the quiet sobs of the wounded man on the floor outside the confessional. " _Jack_?" he tried again, a little louder. Finally, unable to wait any longer, Daniel opened the door and stepped out, nearly tripping over the trussed and bloody man at his feet, but Jack was nowhere to be seen.

*****

What seemed like hours later, weary to the bone, Daniel stepped inside his small room in the rectory and closed the door. He flipped on the light on the nearby dresser, walked over to the bed, and dropped to his knees to pray. His heart was heavy, his stomach churning, and his hands were still shaking from the emotionally trying day.

Sam and the police had finally left, escorting a silently fuming Kinsey out of the church without restraints, but shooting daggers at Daniel with his eyes. An ambulance had arrived for the wounded man -Samuels, he said his name was, and Daniel recognized him from the alley that first night. They'd taken him with a police escort to the emergency room to remove Jack's bullet. The authorities wanted to question Steven Rayner, but they hadn't been able to locate him.

Daniel had met with the Parish Administrator and several of the Deacons and explained what he could to them about what had happened and what Sam had told him might come next, court-wise. They all had questions about the Good Samaritan who'd stepped in, and Daniel agreed it was indeed unfortunate that he hadn't seen the face of the man who'd saved his life. Twice. Emergency calls had already been put in to both the archdiocese and the Vatican; it was entirely possible that Kinsey would never come to civil trial.

Daniel knew in his heart there was nothing more for him now, here in the church. Sam had given him a key to her place and told him he could stay with her until he could figure out what to do. He'd come to his room to pack his meager belongings and then planned to take a taxi to her apartment. He figured she'd be busy at the police station for a while, giving her statement about how she'd heard a shot fired in the church as she 'happened to be walking by'. A stretching of the truth, he supposed, but considering what was at stake, a small one, and one he hoped God could forgive under the circumstances. For now, he just wanted a few moments alone to try to pull himself together.

*****

Jack had planned to be long gone by now; it would've been the smart thing to do.

From where he sat, his back against the wall in the shadows beside the desk in the small, dark, room, he watched the line of Daniel's back as he prayed, no longer ramrod straight, now that he wasn't on duty. He looked just like any other civilian who'd had their second brush with violent death in less than a week. Disbelief that it'd ever happened, relief that it was finally over, probably coupled in Daniel's case by regret and sadness for the three men who'd died, even though they'd been the bad guys, for cryin' out loud.

Jack wondered if there was anything else at play in Daniel's posture. Anything that left room for him. For them. Daniel's last gentle words to him, _"I love you, Jack_ ," reverberated inside his head.

Jack had realized while watching Daniel from the vestry that walking away and leaving him now wasn't something he was selfless enough to do. In the few days they'd been together, Jack had felt a connection developing between them that he hadn't felt with another individual -male or female- in years. It went beyond the obvious physical magnetism into the very core of Jack's humanity; something Jack had been sure was lost to him with the death of his family and his choice of profession. Daniel had simply made him feel glad to be alive again.

Jack was sure that if Daniel had been tainted by being with him, then the reverse was certainly true; Daniel's goodness had stated to rub off on Jack, and he couldn't walk away from something that felt so right without at least giving it one last shot.

If Daniel wanted Jack out of his life, he'd do it, but Daniel would have to be the one to tell him to go.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," Jack murmured into the soft darkness of his corner. Daniel startled at the sound of his voice, but he didn't turn around; probably an ingrained response to the opening line, Jack figured, years of training to just close his eyes and catch whatever the sinner verbally threw at him.

Daniel was choked up and completely at a loss for words. Jack shouldn't be here; it was too dangerous.

"Sinned big time," Jack continued quietly, "but being God, I'm sure you knew that. It's been -well, might as well round it up, I guess- a hundred years or so since my last confession. Since that time, I've had a bit of an issue with some of your commandments... ah, a bunch of 'em, actually, and I, uh, seem to have committed the mortal sin of falling in love with one of your priests; I'm sure you know the one I mean. Sorry about that, but it's not like I was looking for it to happen. It couldn't be helped."

In a voice with far less bravado in it, he frowned a little and continued, "I promise to do whatever kinda penance ya want every day for the rest of my life, though, if you'll just hand him over to me for safekeeping. I'll take real good care of him, I promise," Jack hurried to add. "I'll take him to new places and buy him all the books he could ever wanna read." He swallowed hard again, finding it difficult to get the rest out past the lump forming in his throat. "And I'll hold him close every single night while he sleeps," he finished, whispering now.

Jack's mind raced, trying to remember how this confessional speech was supposed to end, and if there were anything else he'd forgotten to say. His nerves were making him draw a total blank. "Um... for these sins and those I truly don't remember... Iaskforyourforgivenessandadvice," he raced to finish from memory. "That's it." Then he held his breath and waited. He'd never been this nervous, even when he proposed to Sara.

"Oh, God..." Daniel choked, still on his knees, hands still clasped together tightly as if in prayer. He struggled, his heart urging him to believe Jack's words, his mind racing, reminding him that Jack hated priests and didn't take in strays. What did Jack want? Was he looking for penance or something else? How could Daniel ask him his one burning question, _do you want me?_ "Jack...?"

Jack's heart pounded, waiting to hear what the verdict would be; it wasn't sounding good. "I'm here..." He got to his feet, his knees protesting the time spent on the cold floor, and took a step forward, but just one. "I'm right here."

Daniel's breath caught in his throat. His lower lip was trembling, and he didn't know how to stop it. It felt like his entire world was balanced upon the head of a pin, in danger at any moment to come crashing down around him. He didn't know why Jack was there. He shouldn't be, but Daniel wasn't about to question a miracle, not when one was right in the room with him. "Yes... _please..."_

Jack finally let himself breathe, and then he remembered what he'd forgotten to say. "I love you, Daniel..."

Under his breath, Daniel murmured a heartfelt, _'thank you, God',_ and stood, turning to face Jack. In the dim lighting of his room, Jack looked old, scared, and Daniel realized Jack had been afraid he wasn't wanted. He opened his arms wide, and Jack moved into them, his own arms coming up around Daniel, one hand cradling the back of his skull, the other holding him close with a viselike grip. "I love you, too, Jack," he whispered.

The hug lasted as long as Jack dared without it slipping over into something more. Reluctantly, he pulled away. He searched Daniel's face, his eyes, and saw such love and trust shining back at him, tears gathered in his eyes. "We need to go," he whispered as he stroked Daniel's cheeks with the thumbs of both hands.

Daniel nodded and went to work gathering his few belongings into the bag Jack had bought him. Jack turned away as he started to change out of his priestly garb, giving him privacy to shed the trappings of his former life.

Jack wanted to hold him, he wanted to kiss him, but he knew that here in the church, it was too dangerous, in more ways than one. Jack didn't want to make Daniel have to verbalize his choice. Better to get out while the getting was good, before God changed his mind and rained down some kind of pestilence upon them.

They left quietly by the side entrance. Just down the hall, Daniel knew that the Board of Deacons were hastily arranging an emergency meeting to figure out who was going to be the one to take the call when the Archbishop's office phoned.

Once they were in Jack's truck and safely on the road, Daniel turned to him in the dark. "Jack?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"What's the plan?"

"Do we have a plan?"

"We've _always_ had a plan."

Jack had intended to head immediately west toward Salt Lake City; he had a stash of funds there and they'd need it for papers and airfare to get out of the country. But he could feel Daniel watching him, and he thought about the fact that they were running away together, and that they'd be _together/_ together, and in the sudden rush of emotion at that revelation, all his intelligent good intentions melted away pretty damn fast. Time for Plan B. "Somewhere we can be together."

Daniel smiled as he slid down into the seat, feeling the weight of his old life slipping away behind him with each mile they drove, his whole unknown future stretching out in front of him in the darkness, which was easily split by Jack's headlights. "Whatever you say, Jack."

They stopped at a Motel 6 on the outskirts of Denver for the night.

Jack paced impatiently in the dark room for Daniel to wait the obligatory three minutes and then follow him in. The instant Daniel closed the door behind him, Jack pulled him into his arms, nearly knocking the air out of him in the process.

"God, Jack-" was all Daniel had time for before his mouth was filled with Jack's needy tongue. Daniel's arms scrabbled around Jack's shoulders, clutching the hard body next to him as he felt Jack's strong hands all over him.

"I'm sorry- sorry," Jack panted as he pulled back a little, overcome with gratitude and need. How did you _respectfully_ maul a priest?

"For what?" Daniel breathed against Jack's cheek, feeling Jack's heart pounding against his own chest.

"I love you," Jack winced. "I said that, right?"

"You could say it a few million more times, I wouldn't mind," Daniel replied, pulling Jack closer, "because I love you, too..."

"God, yeah! Shit! I mean-"

Daniel grabbed Jack's face and kissed him hard. "It's okay, Jack," he assured his lover with a smile, "I don't think God would mind if His name was used in joy and happiness."

"Much joy, Daniel," Jack agreed earnestly. "Heaps of fucking joy..."

"Show me," Daniel whispered.

Jack kissed him again, less frantically this time and with the deeply rooted knowledge that he'd made the right decision. This was more than everything; this felt like happily ever after.

Daniel moaned, pushing Jack's head toward his neck, encouraging the biting and sucking. "Oh, yes," he said, closing his eyes and letting the sensations fill him. This was where he belonged.

In the parking lot, the man watching their room from his vehicle lit up a cigarette, its tip glowing in the darkness, and waited.

*****

The following morning, Sam stepped out of the shower to the sound of a ringing phone. She grabbed a towel and muttered under her breath, "This damn well better be you, Daniel Jackson..."

He hadn't been at her apartment as they'd agreed when she'd finished with the police. Thinking he might've stayed the night in the rectory for one reason or another, she planned to call the church that morning to get someone to go look for him before she panicked. Failing that, she was going to issue an APB for him the minute she got to work.

"Hello?"

_"Don't say my name."_

"Oh, my god, where-"

_"You okay? I can't talk long."_

"Fine. Everything's fine. Where...? I mean, how'd you...?"

_"How do ya think?"_

She could hear the smile in Daniel's voice. "Are you happy?" she asked.

_"Very."_

"Let me talk to him," she said sternly. She heard the phone changing hands and figured they were in a phone booth on the side of the road somewhere.

_"Yes, I love him, I'll take care of him, and we'll be in touch after things cool down. Okay?"_

Sam could even hear the smile in Rasputin's voice, and it made her smile too. "You'd damn well _better."_

*****

"So. What's the plan for the first day of the rest of our lives?" Daniel asked eagerly as he slid into the front seat beside Jack.

"Thought we'd drive west for a while," Jack replied as he started the engine and put on his seatbelt. "Over the mountains, then north to Salt Lake City. We should be there by dinnertime."

"No breakfast?" Daniel pouted.

"Drive through," Jack said distractedly. "Gotta get moving."

"You see something?"

"No," Jack replied, merging onto the I-70, "but that doesn't always mean anything. Sometimes it's just a feeling." _Damn his hackles anyway. They were back in full force this morning and had been ever since he'd opened his eyes._

They picked up some food at a truck stop and drove west; it was almost two hours later before Jack was sure his earlier feeling had merit. They were alone on the switchback mountain road with only one other vehicle, a dark green Buick, from the looks of it, and Jack was pretty sure he knew who was driving.

"Murray," he muttered.

Daniel was absorbed in the cheap paperback he'd picked up at the truck stop. "Huh?"

"We have a tail," Jack stated. "Shoulda figured they'd send him..."

Daniel resisted the urge to look out the back window. "What do we do?" he asked quietly.

_Damn it!_ "There's nothing we _can_ do," Jack said tightly. "If that's really Murray, and I'm not just hallucinating... we can't outrun him in this hunk of junk, and he won't _ever_ give up."

"Murray?" Daniel asked incredulously. "That's the name of a killer?"

"It's not his real name," Jack snapped, alternating looking in the rear view mirror and keeping an eye on the treacherous road ahead, "but it's some long-ass African thing with hiccup sounds built into it, and he never liked the way any of us pronounced it. So he picked Murray, after the guy on Saturday Night Live, and told us to call him that."

_He should've known it was too good to last; should've walked away from Daniel last night; at least then he'd be safe. Jack knew there was no way to shake Murray, particularly on these deadly curves. The best he could hope for was to make a deal with him for Daniel. As they approached the next scenic overlook, he ordered Daniel onto the floor of the truck and veered hard to the right, causing the vehicle to fishtail to the lowest point of the pull off. Murray drove in right behind him, blocking their retreat._

"Stay in the car, and stay down," Jack ordered Daniel under his breath. "And be quiet!"

Jack wrenched the door open, pulling his automatic out from under the seat as his foot touched gravel.

"That would be _most_ unwise," came the calm bass voice.

Jack froze, dropping the weapon on the floorboard of the idling vehicle as he looked up into the serene, black face, his shiny, bald head looking mighty cold in the crisp mountain air. "Murray," Jack acknowledged quietly, his hands empty and spread wide. Murray was packing a 44 with a very long barrel today.

The black man bent down a little and looked past Jack to the other man in the front seat. "I see you have picked up a stray, O'Neill."

"Let him go, Murray," Jack said tightly. "He's not part of this."

"On the contrary; if he travels with you, he must come to know that whatever fate befalls you will become his own as well." He arched an aristocratic eyebrow. "I assume he is, in fact, _with_ you?" he asked pointedly.

Hands still out, palms up, Jack ignored the barb and moved a little so that his body covered Murray's line of sight, and Daniel was hidden behind him. "He's got no idea who you are, and he's no threat to you. Let him go."

"Tell me, O'Neill, has your recent foray into spiritual pursuits been all you had hoped it would be?" Murray's lip curled into an approximation of a feral grin. "Most. Deviant."

Jack's teeth ground in annoyance now, instead of anger. If Murray had been gonna do it, he'd've done it already. Now, he was just dickin' around with him. _"Murray..."_ he growled, planting his hands on his hips.

"Exit the vehicle," Murray instructed brusquely with a jerk of his head as he stepped back a couple of feet. "Keep your hands where I can see them. Both of you. I do not have all day."

As Daniel got out of the truck with slow, careful movements, Murray kept talking. "It might interest you to know that I picked up your trail two days ago, coming back into Denver," he said smugly. "Very careless, O'Neill; you are indeed getting old. Or perhaps your thoughts were simply otherwise directed," he said, leering a suggestive eyebrow in Daniel's direction.

"He sure talks a lot for a killer," Daniel observed with calm irony, coming to stand beside Jack with his hands raised. He didn't really have a choice, at least until he got some kind of signal from Jack.

"He's not gonna kill us," Jack stated, pulling Daniel's nearest hand down. He squinted cautiously through the morning sun at the tall black man. "Are ya, Murray?"

Murray gazed very sternly down at the two of them from his position at the top of the slight incline. He cut a very imposing figure dressed all in black, and Daniel thought it was entirely possible Murray would kill them both without a second thought.

"I do not believe today would be a good day to kill you, O'Neill; I deem it more appropriate to partake of precipitation compensation, so that I may suitably anticipate the prospect for another time."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, for cryin' out loud, that's _rain check_ , Murray," he said with exasperation. "How long have you been in this country again?"

"That is of no consequence," Murray stated dismissively. "Remove your belongings from the vehicle."

Jack grabbed both their bags out of the back seat and his weapon from the floor in front, and then Daniel leaned in to get his cup of coffee, leaving the novel spread open on his seat.

He straightened, taking a sip from the Styrofoam cup, seeing that both men were now staring at him. "What?"

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "You want the coffee but not the book?"

Daniel shrugged and made a face. "Too many 'heaving bosoms'."

Jack shook his head and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the truck. "You ready?"

"Indeed." Murray stuffed his revolver in the back waistband of his pants and yanked open the passenger door while Jack released the brake and put it in drive, and together, gravel crunching under their feet, they pushed the vehicle over the side. All three men stood and watched as the car bounced and did a freefall down over the thousand foot drop, finally crashing to a stop far below, hung up in some evergreen trees.

*****

The drive down the mountain to Glenwood Springs took another hour and a half. Murray sprawled on the back seat and snored intermittently while Jack drove.

"Hammond needs a body as proof that I'm dead," Jack explained to Daniel as he maneuvered Murray's car down the mountain. "This way, I'm the victim of an unfortunate immolation when the truck I was driving was run off the road."

"By the time anyone is able to climb down to examine the wreckage and confirm the kill, wild animals will have carried off your dead and mangled bodies," Murray added groggily from the back seat.

"Why are you doing this?" Daniel asked, twisting to sit sideways in the seat so he could see Murray's face. "Why are you helping us?"

When Murray didn't answer and just stared out the window, Jack guessed softly, "Rya'c. His son." He glanced into the rear-view mirror; Murray's gaze was fixed on the moving scenery outside the window, arms folded across his chest, his face an unreadable mask.

"Indeed," Murray frowned. "We are, in fact, on one level at this time, are we not?" He _hated_ owing people.

"Yeah, big guy," Jack replied softly. "We're even."

*****

Glenwood Springs was a low-key kind of resort town. Nestled in the basin of the usually snow-capped Rocky Mountains between Vail and Aspen, it offered skiing, river rafting, and fabulous trout fishing along the Colorado River. A sizable community had sprung up around the Yampah Hot Springs, catering to all manner of outdoor sporting activities that Jack would've loved to hang around for.

To the three men in the old Buick, however, what was most important about Glenwood Springs was the fact that it had two independent used car dealerships, and an Amtrak station.

Jack pulled into the far corner of the train station parking lot in order to minimize the possibility of anyone seeing him with Murray; after all, Jack was supposed to have died three towns back. He didn't bother to shut the engine off. "Where you headed?" he asked Murray in the mirror.

"I believe I shall go to San Francisco for a few days to visit with my son, before I report in to Secretary Hammond," Murray said softly. "Where will you and your priest go?"

It startled Jack to hear Daniel referred to as 'his priest', but it wasn't a bad feeling. "Out of the country as soon as we can," Jack replied. "Not sure where yet. I'll know it when we get there."

In the mirror, Jack saw Murray nod.

"Thanks again, man," Jack said softly.

Daniel reached over the seat and offered the black man his hand. //Thank you, for honoring your debt to Jack, whatever it was, so that we could both have this chance.//

The black man was startled to hear his native language spoken---and _well--_ by this white man, but he took the offered hand and held it for a moment. //A debt of honor must always be repaid,// he replied with a slight bow of his head.

Daniel smiled and returned the nod. //Goodbye, Murray. Be well.//

A genuine smile bloomed on the usually stern-looking face. //I would be honored if you would know my true name, Priest.//

//And you, mine,// Daniel bowed his head. //I am Daniel Jackson.//

The man squeezed his hand again. //And I am Oumelkheir M'hand Boudjemaa Teal'c. Take care in your travels, Daniel Jackson.//

//Peace be upon you, and Allah's mercy, Boudjemaa Teal'c.//

With a deeply earnest expression, Teal'c replied, //And on you and O'Neill be the peace and mercy of Allah and His blessing.// With a final, regal inclination of his head, Murray grabbed his bag and strode toward the train station without another word.

Jack stared at Daniel, stunned at having heard the fluent whatever-it-was that had just come out of his lover's mouth, and mostly clueless about what he and Murray had just said to one another.

Daniel watched Teal'c's long, purposeful stride as he crossed the parking lot to the station without a backward glance. "Would he really have-"

"In a heartbeat," Jack assured him, pulling out of the parking lot. "I know it's hard for you to understand, but to him and me, it's just business."

Daniel thought about that for a long couple of moments and asked quietly. "What was his debt of honor? Can you tell me?"

Jack blinked at hearing it referred to that way, but he guessed it made a kind of sense. Odd that the big guy would open up to Daniel -a complete stranger- but then that was part of Daniel's charm, he supposed. "His son, Rya'c was involved with someone I was told to neutralize. By rights, I shoulda off'ed him too."

"A life for a life?" Daniel mused. Circular justice again.

Jack stole a glance at Daniel, looking out the windshield at the passing scenery. "How'd you know what language to use?"

Daniel shrugged. "You mentioned Africa and hiccups, and I saw the crescent and star tattoo on his inner wrist and deduced he was from Algeria. From there it was simply a matter of determining which of the Afro-Asiac branches, Semetic or Berber; I decided to go with Tamazight, and it looks like I was right because-" he frowned, noticing Jack's smirk for the first time. _"What?"_

"Just how many languages do you know?" Jack asked with an arched brow.

"A bunch," Daniel muttered under his breath.

"How many?"

"Um, I'm fluent in five and have a working knowledge of twenty-three."

Jack shook his head in amazement. They still had a lot to learn about each other, but at least now they had time. "What'd'ya want for lunch?" he asked softly.

After they grabbed a quick bite to eat, Jack made a pretty good deal on a sweet new ride.

"Where to now?" Daniel asked, getting comfortable for the long ride with a full belly and a new paperback. The tan Taurus Jack had just bought, using Teal'c's Buick as a trade-in, had a split bench seat, and Daniel had his part fully reclined.

Jack adjusted his shades and fiddled with his part of the seat controls until his butt was happy. "Salt Lake City to pick up some stuff, then anywhere you wanna go."

"Really?" Daniel asked, his eyebrows dancing. _"Any_ where? In the world?"

Jack winced. "Am I gonna be sorry I said that?"

Daniel nodded. "Oh, _probably."_

*****

**EPILOG:**

Daniel still prayed.

That didn't surprise Jack, given how many years that behavior had been drilled into him; Bible Boot Camp was how he thought of it. It didn't bother Jack to watch Daniel pray, because it evoked memories of the one time he'd seen Daniel do it on the job, in The Suit.

God, Daniel had looked hot in black. And the collar. And the long hair. _Christ, have mercy._

Jack missed the long hair. He'd gotten to wash it several times in the first few weeks they'd been there, and he'd found that running his hands through the silky wet strands, distributing the shampoo, working it into a rich foamy lather and then rinsing it clean had been a hell of a sensual experience for both of them. It'd made Daniel purr, and that had made Jack hard.

But their work was hot and sweaty, and the long hair had been a problem. At first, Daniel'd tried tying it back with a bandana to keep it out of his way, which Jack also found strangely erotic for some reason, but he eventually decided it had to go. He got it cut just like Jack's; Jack wasn't sure how he felt about that. The upside was that Daniel also had pretty sexy ears that just begged to be rimmed.

Daniel hadn't brought one of his priest suits with him, but then he hadn't brought much of _anything_ with him because he'd owned next to nothing. That didn't stop Jack from imagining him in it sometimes. Tall and sleek and powerful and wise, both commanding and innocent at the same time. It made Jack extremely hard every time he thought about Daniel in The Suit, and they sometimes made love together with that image planted firmly in Jack's libido. Jack always silently apologized to God afterward, just in case.

They'd been in the Basque Country of northern Spain for a little more than two months. Jack had been sure Daniel had said 'Bass Country' when he'd agreed to that as their destination, and every now and then, Jack reminded Daniel of the misunderstanding. It was good for a blowjob, anyway.

It had taken them the better part of two weeks, three flights, and a train ride to get there, making sure they obscured their trail as much as possible along the way. No eyebrows were raised by two men obviously traveling together, because Europeans were more accepting of physical affection in general and were usually unconcerned about gender lines being crossed.

Although they weren't blatant about public displays of affection, they lived together openly, and no one cared.

The province of Bizkaia was situated on the Bay of Biscay with the Pyrenees to the West and a dozen or so towns of various sizes nestled in the valley in between. Lush green forests, dotted with chalets of Alpine-influenced design, topped off with distinctive orange Spanish tiles roofs, reminded Jack of some kind of postcard of a place too beautiful to be true. They rented a one-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of Mundaka, within walking distance of most of the little town and more importantly, only a short drive to the beach.

They spent the first week they were there memorizing every exhibit in the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. Jack couldn't've cared less about the freakish looking building or anything inside of it, but Daniel seemed excited and fascinated by everything. Jack thought that was a particularly good look on Daniel, so he tagged along for the view.

In turn, Daniel humored Jack and went with him to the beach, cheering supportively while Jack bruised and battered his body, surfing with the teenagers, looking at it as a great excuse to bask on the beach afterward. It was like a vacation of sorts, for both of them, a low-key kind of transition between who they had been and who they could be. Jack paid the rent and bought the food, and Daniel didn't ask any questions; if he had a problem with the origin of the money that supported them, he kept it to himself.

Within a couple of weeks, Daniel found work doing salvage archeology in the Santimamine caves outside of Kortezubi, near the Oma Forest. "Salvage" referred to the attempt to document and safeguard as much of the site's history as possible at the same time daily tours allowed the public to see the secrets of the caves as they were uncovered.

He seemed to love doing all the mundane things the 'official' archeologists didn't have time for, like tagging and processing excavated Paleolithic material and mapping the cave paintings. Kind of a backwards career move, considering he had a Master's in Archeology that he couldn't tell anyone about. Those who guided the dig were amazed at the speed with which he caught onto the work.

Daniel was happy being a shovel bum. He wasn't in it for the glory, just the beauty and simplicity of the work. And he was finally starting to understand what had drawn his parents and grandfather to that occupation in the first place.

Once in a while, Jack would overhear Daniel talking to one of the other people there about the cave paintings. They'd been determined to be 13,000-year-old Cro Magnan scribblings, but the fact that they were starting to come across evidence of even earlier specimens the farther back they went in the caves, was causing some heated 'creationism versus evolution' discussions, which Jack had no desire whatsofucking _ever_ to get involved with.

His own personal view was that the creationists had it easy. They seemed to take every new discovery in stride, and he had this mental image of the Pope irritably back-pedaling with, 'Well, yeah, monkeys into humans, but it's because God _wanted_ it that way...' He figured the less he and Daniel got into that subject, the better for their relationship in general. He had no desire to start sleeping on the couch, so he kept his mouth shut.

Jack worked the cave site as well, having gotten the job mostly on Daniel's recommendation, rather than his own particular skills. He did it to keep an eye on Daniel, but at this point it wasn't really clear just who he was protecting Daniel from, any bad guys who might have potentially followed them from their previous lives, or the young female guides who always seemed so smitten with him when they brought the tour groups by in the afternoons.

Daniel had filled out a lot from the physical labor of working the caves, and hanging around half naked on the beach on weekends with Jack had given him decent color. Even grungy from being on his hands and knees in a cave all day and dressed in baggy BDU's and a sweaty T-shirt that said, _'Archeologists Do It in the Dirt',_ Daniel always drew people's eyes. Fortunately for Jack, he was usually oblivious to the effect he had on others. Except for Jack.

Daniel was quite aware of what an over-the-shoulder glance could do to his lover, and he used it to good advantage. Jack knew he was being teased, and he loved it. Even the backbreaking labor of cave work couldn't dampen his spirits when Daniel gave him one of those 'when I get you home' looks.

Even stuck in a country where he couldn't get a decent pizza, where there were no bass in the streams, and where he didn't yet understand most of the language, Jack loved his life.

*****

Lying to God wasn't ever an option. Daniel could no more have gone on with his life pretending he hadn't fallen in love with Jack than he could fly.

He remembered the exact moment he'd decided to leave the priesthood. He'd been kneeling by his bed in the rectory after Sam and the police had left. Tears had streamed down his face as he'd prayed for God to tell him what to do with the rest of his life. The man he'd broken his vows with had just wounded a bad guy, in the hope of removing a corrupt bishop from the church. He'd then disappeared, taking Daniel's heart with him. His choices had been few.

He couldn't have stayed at the Holy Redeemer, that was for sure. The publicity resulting from Kinsey's absence, _however_ it was handled, would have made it impossible for him to minister to his community ever again. Even if the Vatican could have persuaded the DA's office to let them handle it all internally, and Kinsey had been removed quietly, as though being promoted to Rome, there'd been too many lay people who'd known too much and who'd seen the pictures.

At that time, there were only two options that he could see. He could go on an extended retreat, giving himself up to the solitude of some far distant hermitage for however long it took to try to renew his vows and re-dedicate his life in this world to God. Perhaps after a protracted time of prayer and earnest mortification and penance, he could purge Jack from his heart.

Or he could pack up what little he actually owned and try to start a brand-new secular life at age thirty-four. And try to purge Jack from his heart.

What was his eternal destiny, anyway?

Balanced on the precipice of an impossible decision, there had been a quiet voice in the darkness, felt, more than heard. _'Bless me, Father, for I have sinned...'_ and Daniel knew he had a third choice. He could disappear with the man he loved and try to live a righteous life in his heart, in spite of the teachings of his Church and what prevailing cultural mores had to say about his sexual orientation.

It hadn't really been too difficult of a choice after that.

The first thing Jack did when they got their apartment in Mundaka was to buy him a bookcase and take him on a book-buying binge. If such were allowed their kind, it would've made a loving and romantic wedding gift.

It was hard to feel like he was betraying God while lying in Jack's arms. Yes, there was the pleasure of the flesh, and Daniel had to admit that Jack's flesh was damned pleasurable every single time, but there was more to it than that. Jack was warmth and love that filled Daniel's soul, he was Daniel's anchor, and he was Daniel's protector, putting him first in all things. It looked like Jack was treading very carefully, concerned perhaps about the wrath of a God displeased with how Jack carried out the vow he'd made to protect him and keep him.

And true to his word, Jack held him every single night. If Daniel didn't wake up in his arms every morning, he was never far away, a fact for which Daniel thanked God every day.

Yes, there was guilt, for leaving his congregation, for walking away from his vows and obligations, but Daniel figured there was a reason he'd been led there, presented with these choices, and that the Grand Design wasn't necessarily his to know. And if it turned out that his whole life, all his experiences and achievements and failures, both before he'd become a priest and after, was nothing more than the setup for the downfall of a corrupt Bishop, then his calling to the priesthood was a just enough cause and a sufficient price.

God would make it clear in His own time or not, and trying to second-guess Him was never a very smart idea.

Daniel knew he was blessed to be where he was, with Jack by his side for however many years God gave them together, and really, what more could he ask?

*****

Following a day of physical labor in the caves of Santimamine, a steaming hot shower was always the _best thing._

After the shower of course, the hot sex with all that freshly scrubbed wet skin was always the next _best thing._ And sometimes, like today, there was a slow, sensuous massage first. And Jack thought _that_ was probably the very best thing...

"You hungry?" Daniel whispered against the back of Jack's neck.

His skin still damp from the shower, Daniel's words turned into goose bumps there immediately. "Oh, my _god,_ yes," Jack gasped, arching his neck a bit so Daniel'd do it again.

Daniel continued to mouth Jack's skin with warm lips and tongue. "I think we've got some leftovers from last night's take out-"

"You're talking about food _now?"_

Daniel smiled and sat up, still straddling Jack's naked ass as he continued to work Jack's lats with strong, loving hands. "Man does not live by sex alone, Jack."

The swell of Daniel's ass was planted firmly atop Jack's own much bonier butt, and Jack could feel Daniel's cock and balls, warmly puddled in the small of his back. He groaned as the deep tissue massage loosened up muscles abused by eight hours of toting buckets of cave crap. "No, but how about sex first and then food?" he suggested, his words muffled against the mattress.

"Works for me," Daniel agreed, following his kneading fingers with tiny kisses to Jack's tanned and supple shoulders. "You are so beautiful to me..." he whispered against Jack's skin.

Jack squirmed beneath him, making Daniel lean up to allow it, until they were face to face, with Daniel straddling his hips. Daniel leaned back down and kissed him gently, Jack holding him firmly by the back of the neck with one hand and a handful of ass cheek in the other. Jack hadn't been this happy in years. He had a warm, loving partner to share his life with, a decent place to live with no yard work, and a simple job with no moral ambiguities. He had almost everything he could possibly ask for, and yet here he was, poised to screw up perfection.

"You've got that ass-backwards," Jack countered when the kiss ended. _"You're_ the beautiful one; I'm just old. And cranky."

"Cranky I'll give you," Daniel agreed, continuing his nibbles down Jack's chin and along his throat. "But you're not old, and I'm not having this discussion with you again."

"You're not?"

"Nope."

"Seems like we're havin' it."

"We're not," Daniel insisted around the nipple he was trying to suck, "having it."

"You called me 'old man'."

"No, I didn't!" Daniel chuckled, switching nipples.

"Yes, you did."

"When?"

"The first time."

"Oh. That doesn't count."

"Does."

_"Doesn't,"_ Daniel replied firmly, shutting Jack up by grinding down with his hips at the same time he kissed him. "You're not old until you can't get it up anymore, and nowadays they've got pills for that. So shut up already."

Jack's hands ran up and down Daniel's smooth back. "You say the sweetest things."

"You've never struck me as a 'sweet nothings' kinda guy," Daniel smirked leaning down to do wet things to Jack's ear.

"There's still a lot about me you don't know," Jack teased, pulling Daniel back for another deep kiss.

"Don't tell me," Daniel whispered conspiratorially. "You're secretly a woman."

"I think you'd've noticed that by now," Jack said in his droll way. "After all, you've catalogued the entire area with your tongue on more than one occasion..." Daniel's mouth seemed to have a love affair going with his ass, and Jack couldn't've been more pleased about it.

Daniel rimmed him almost every day, sometimes on his hands and knees on their bed right out of the shower. Sometimes he'd open Jack's pants in the living room after dinner while they watched television. Daniel would pull out Jack's soft cock and nose around it, snuffling warm air all along the lengthening shaft, breathing in the concentrated scent there. He'd suckle leisurely on Jack's cock while the TV played in the background, until Jack surrendered and slipped out of his pants altogether, eager to feel Daniel's face between his legs and his tongue between his cheeks.

Daniel's favorite position for this was to sit sideways on the couch, arranging Jack on his back between Daniel's out stretched legs so that Jack's hips rested on Daniel's abs. This folded Jack in half, but it also left his ass open and spread before Daniel like a banquet.

Daniel would lick him and smell him and nose his ball sac all the while moaning his own pleasure. He sucked and nibbled and used his tongue and fingers in all manner of devilish ways. He never let Jack touch his own cock, and would sometimes torment Jack this way for most of an hour before he'd finally let him come. He'd catch Jack's come in his hand and smear it all over Jack's balls while Jack was still coming, and then noisily lick it all back off.

Sometimes Jack stayed hard from all that continuous stimulation, and they reversed position with Daniel's legs in the air. That way, Jack could leisurely pump into him for a fairly long time, not needing to come himself. Watching Daniel closely for clues to his degree of arousal, Jack would edge him, bringing Daniel to the brink and then backing off, over and over, before finally letting him come. Daniel's climax, when it finally happened, tended to spurt harder and farther and there seemed to be more for Jack to lick up afterward.

"You complaining?" Daniel asked, swiveling his hips a little to bring their only partially hard cocks into alignment with each other.

Jack looked down at their flesh, just beginning to lengthen and fill between their bellies from the loving contact alone. He thought Daniel's uncut cock always looked sleepy until it got fully hard, then the prominent, flaring ridge held the foreskin back, exposing the plump, purplish head, making it look like a serious weapon. A beautiful, luscious, _virgin_ weapon.

"No way," Jack assured him stroking Daniel's lightly-furred thighs. "Not complaining in the slightest. I love all the ways we've loved each other so far."

Daniel squinted down at his lover. "You wanting to try something new and kinky? 'Cause I'm all for that, but just not on an empty stomach."

Jack smiled. "Not kinky," he said as offhandedly as he could, as if his heart wasn't bruising his ribcage from nervousness. "I want you to top me."

Daniel shook his head with an indulgent smirk. "Jack, I've told you; I don't need it."

"How can you know that?"

"Because I know-"

"What's the worst that can happen?"

"That's not the point-"

"Will you give it a try?"

"Why?"

Jack felt a prickle behind his eyes, thinking about Kawalsky, the only person he'd ever trusted that way. He missed Charlie like crazy sometimes, but his life was with Daniel now, and _god,_ he missed this...

"Because sometimes... _I_ need it."

"Jack, I've never-"

"I know that," Jack interrupted, his hands moving to Daniel's face, trying to be reassuring, coaxing, something short of actually begging, he hoped. "I _know_ that. And it's been killing me to not ask you why the hell not. I kept hoping one day you'd just shove me up against a wall and..." Jack swallowed hard.

"Look," he continued more softly, "that doesn't matter anymore. I'm _glad_ you've never topped before, because it means your first time can be with me." He held Daniel's eyes with his own and whispered, _"In me..._ so deep inside me. Please..." he breathed, pulling Daniel down for another gentle kiss. _"Please,"_ he repeated against Daniel's lips, nipping at them in a completely non-begging way as his hands petted the back of Daniel's hair. "Just once, and then if you hate it, I won't ever ask again. I swear."

Daniel pulled back, frowning a little, and looked away. He seemed to have some kind of internal struggle, then he nodded finally, bending to touch Jack's lips in a chaste kiss. "Do you grade on a curve?" he whispered.

"Oh, god, Daniel, I'm not gonna grade you at all," Jack whispered, his voice starting to crack a little in both shame and gratitude. He'd watched Daniel's expression play out a myriad of emotions, none of which he'd probably ever know. He could feel Daniel's deep reluctance and his willingness to do it anyway, merely to please his lover. Simply knowing that Daniel was willing to try it meant so much to him. "Just once, that's all I-"

"Shhh..." Daniel said softly, sliding down alongside Jack so he wasn't bearing all of Daniel's weight anymore. He leaned on an elbow and cupped Jack's face with his palm, stroking the freshly shaved skin of his cheekbone with his thumb. "I can feel how tense you are, Jack. You're going to have to relax a whole hell of a lot before we can go much further," he whispered. "How long's it been?"

"Three years, give or take."

Daniel nodded with an arched brow. "How about we take a break then," he suggested reasonably. "We'll grab a couple of beers first, I'll blow you, and once you're more relaxed-"

Jack touched Daniel's lips with a finger and shook his head, stopping the suggestion before it could fully form. "Don't wanna take the edge off," he said earnestly. "I want to feel all of it."

Daniel frowned. He pulled Jack's hand down between his legs to cup his forming erection. "You sure about that?"

"Braggart," Jack smiled, hefting Daniel's tool and giving it a loving squeeze.

"I'm not small, Jack."

"No. You're not," Jack agreed, stroking the nearly hard handful. He rolled to his side a little so their chests were touching and threw a leg over Daniel's waist, bringing them hip to hip and nose to nose. "And I know it's gonna hurt like hell," he whispered just before he kissed him.

A brief frown crossed Daniel's forehead as he looked at his lover through the kiss. "You into pain?" he asked softly.

"No, " Jack replied honestly. "But if this turns out to be the only time you ever top me, I want to be able to remember every single detail for the rest of my life."

"God, Jack, no pressure!"

"No! No pressure," Jack said as earnestly as he could. He cupped Daniel's cheek, moving in closer to whisper against his skin. He was ashamed now, for asking for this, for causing his lover this hurt. But he couldn't take it back; he needed it; _they_ needed it... "No pressure at all. I love you, remember?"

Daniel still looked skeptical, almost pained.

"You can do this," Jack insisted softly. "I know it's in you. I can hear it in your voice every time you rim me. The noises you make, and the bruises you leave on my hips? It's like... you can't get your tongue far enough into my ass, like you're trying to climb inside me. You can _get_ there with your dick; you can reach all the way inside me and touch everything I am..."

"No," Daniel said, shaking his head firmly, pushing at Jack's shoulders. "That's- you're talking about ownership, claiming. I won't do that to you; it's wrong-"

"'Claiming' can be an ugly word, depending on how it's used," Jack agreed in as reassuring a tone as he could manage, continuing to hold Daniel close so he couldn't squirm away. "I'd rather think of it as _belonging,"_ he hurried to suggest. That seemed to touch a nerve, and Daniel stopped trying to push Jack away. "And _whatever_ you call it, it's not wrong if we both want it."

"Don't we belong to each other already?" Daniel asked, practically begging. "I've felt it for a long time, ever since-"

"Of course we do," Jack smiled, mouthing Daniel's lips as he tried to lick all the reluctance off. "You've belonged to me since that night in Socorro. I knew then, holding you while you slept, that I wanted you to be mine."

Jack looked deeply into Daniel's eyes, needing him to see the truth of what he was saying; the truth that was in his heart. "I can't believe I ever thought I could leave you. I don't know how to describe to you how I felt that night, realizing that I'd fallen in love with you, wanting to make you _feel_ what I felt for you... I want you to feel that way, too. I'm selfish enough to want to belong to you that way." He quirked his mouth a little. "It's a stupid reciprocal thing, I guess. It just feels... lopsided..."

Daniel considered his lover silently for a moment, then kissed him, gently at first, then with mounting fervor, rolling the other man onto his back. Looking down at Jack with earnest eyes, he whispered, "I'd marry you if I could, Jack."

Jack smiled, his heart filling. "That's good enough for me," he replied softly. He watched the beloved face inches above his and seeing the sadness there, he wondered if that was it, if that were his answer. If there were something in Daniel's past that made him so unwilling to take on that role, then Jack would try his best to hide his disappointment.

After all, how many people got to be even _this_ close to perfection?

"I love you, Jack," Daniel whispered, "so very much..." He started to move down Jack's body, licking his way down the hairy center, straight to his dick. He buried his face in Jack's groin, running his cheeks across the silky skin of the rigid cock and then the softness of his ball sac. Surrounded by Jack's musk, the earthy scent of it made Daniel's head swim, made his dick twitch. Made him want _more._ And _deeper._ He took the beautiful dick into his mouth, loving it with his tongue.

Jack's needy request had stirred something buried deep inside Daniel, something he'd been feeling more and more during the two months they'd been living together; something he'd been having an increasingly difficult time ignoring. Jack had noticed it too, apparently, and had decided it meant Daniel was harboring some latent need to top him.

Faced with it now, laid bare in the light of day, Daniel was inclined to agree with him, and that didn't make him very happy. Daniel didn't have a very high opinion of most tops.

In Daniel's experience, all tops were knuckle-dragging Neanderthals, only as useful as the length of their dick. None of their grunting and posturing had meant anything at all to him. He'd lain there and taken it for what it was -cold, faceless, object penetration- just jerking off while impaled on a dick. The repeated mechanical prodding of a gland to get a predictable organic response. Surely, Jack didn't want to be treated like Daniel had let those men treat him?

The men he'd been with had been, with Jack as an obvious exception, frequently crude, sometimes violent, and always selfish. All those men, more than he wanted to remember, all shoving their way into his body without any prep, some with more finesse than others, but all with one goal in mind: to just get off while they used him, possessed him. To make him submit to them. It was ownership of the vilest kind, and it had drained his soul every time. He'd never once wanted to be like them.

After the first dozen or so, he'd figured out how to make sure he got something out of every encounter, so that none of them took advantage of him again. It was every man for himself; whatever they wanted to do was fine with him, as long as he got the bang, and that counted as a win in his book. Looking back now, it was clear that philosophy had turned him into the same kind of self-centered bastard he abhorred anyway, proving, he supposed, that you didn't need to be a top to be an asshole.

From their first night together, Jack had taught him that sex could be more, that sharing your body with someone could be a beautiful thing, full of love and trust and respect. That there could be joy in giving pleasure to someone else. Whenever Jack made love to him, he used his body to join them physically, to bring them closer, to make them one.

And ever since that night in Socorro, only the second time they were together, the joining of their bodies created such joyfulness between them that their love for each other to grew deeper each time, until it became a living thing and permeated everything they did.

Daniel knew now that had been what he'd been looking for with Ska'ara and the men who'd come after him; something to fill up his soul. He'd discovered there hadn't been enough cock on the planet to fill up the emptiness inside him, because instead of filling him, every meaningless fuck had taken something away. It was an ache so deep, even God hadn't been able to completely fill it. Jack had come close, closer than anyone so far, and Daniel wondered if maybe topping Jack was the final missing piece. Maybe filling up the gaping wound in his soul wasn't about _taking_ at all.

Daniel rolled Jack onto his side and pushed his top leg up. He kissed the warm curve of his ass cheek, holding them apart, exposing his opening. He placed his mouth over it loosely, just toying with it using his lips, letting his saliva make it wet and slippery as he poked his nose up underneath Jack's balls, putting delicious pressure on his perineum with it and inhaling deeply. When it was wet enough, Daniel began using his tongue to probe the sensitive area, and Jack started to moan.

Daniel _loved_ that sound, loved knowing he was making Jack feel so good. As he held Jack's cheeks apart and made love to Jack with his mouth, he reluctantly admitted it was definitely a power trip. How different, then, to cause these kinds of feelings in his lover with his cock instead of his tongue? It wasn't the instrument, but the way the power it generated was handled.

"Ohshit... _please_ don't make me come yet," Jack winced, his hips moving involuntarily as Daniel continued to probe his ass.

Daniel stilled his efforts at tongue-fucking Jack with one last nip of Jack's butt and swiped his arm across his wet mouth. He loved rimming him, reducing him to incoherent grunts of desperate need. "I love eating you out..." he panted, surprised by how gravelly his voice was.

_"Fuck,_ don't I know it," Jack panted, rolling onto his back. He reached for the drawer in the bedside table and pulled out the lube, handing it to his lover, who was still between his legs. "I'm pretty sure we know each other well enough by now..."

Daniel looked from the bottle to Jack's face, then he took it from him and slicked up two of his fingers. By the time he'd re-capped the bottle, Jack was holding his legs up and apart in invitation. Daniel looked at his lover, splayed open for him, his hole winking nervously, his bag drawn up snug with need, and his dick, hard and straight in it's nest of brown curls, skin so tight and shiny, it looked like it might split apart at the seams.

"My god, you're beautiful..." Daniel whispered.

"Isn't this where we came in?"

Daniel smiled. "Yeah." He stroked one slippery finger over Jack's hole, feeling it contract against his finger, tightening instinctively against the expected intrusion. They'd done ass play before, so this wasn't really new to them, but somehow this time, it'd taken on a new significance. Instead of simply playing with Jack's ass, Daniel's fingers were preparing the way for his cock. "Jack..."

"I'm ready. God, I've never been so ready..."

Daniel slipped his middle finger in easily, feeling Jack's body swallowing him in until his palm snugged up against Jack's balls.

"More."

"Hey, who's topping here?" Daniel complained lightly. "What's your hurry, anyway?"

"I need to feel it," Jack snapped, beyond desperate. "I need to feel _you-"_

Leaving his finger right where it was, Daniel leaned up and over Jack, kissing him gently. "Hi," he whispered. "I'm Daniel, and I'll be your pilot today. Everything okay up here in first class?"

Jack rolled his eyes and grunted, refusing to smile.

"It's all about the journey, remember?"

"Oh, for cryin' out loud! Are you the only one who gets to be a pushy bottom?"

Daniel frowned. "I'm not pushy."

"Are."

"Am _not,"_ Daniel insisted with an annoyed sniff. "I have... preferences."

"Whoa!" Jack howled when Daniel's second finger found its way inside him. "Warn a guy!"

"Be patient and enjoy the ride," Daniel murmured, latching onto one of Jack's nipples with his teeth.

"Jesus _fuck_ you're good at that!" Jack gasped, arching his back a little and grabbing at the sheets with both fists.

Daniel started at Jack's use of that particular expletive, but continued on, knowing that Jack probably didn't even realize he'd said it. He turned his hand a bit and brushed Jack's prostate with the tip of his finger, making Jack whimper, and felt his own dick lurch in response to the needy sound. He gradually worked the tips of three fingers inside Jack and watched as his lover's eyes closed tight.

"Breathe," Daniel insisted gently. "You've got to relax... let me inside you..."

"I'm workin' on it!"

Leaving his hand still for the moment, Daniel shifted position so he could take Jack's dick into his mouth. It'd lost a little structural integrity along the way, but as soon as Daniel's warm mouth engulfed it, Jack's butt relaxed, allowing Daniel's fingers in the rest of the way.

"Don't make me come!" Jack gasped, feeling the fullness of Daniel's fingers in his ass. Three this time, more than ever before. It was _wonderful._

Daniel chuckled and let Jack's cock slip from his mouth. "Isn't that the point of all this?" he asked, rotating his hand inside Jack and then stroking it in and out the barest inch.

"Uh _god!"_ Jack gasped, arching his back and driving his ass down onto Daniel's hand in a completely involuntary and totally slutty way. He leaned up and did his best to glare at Daniel through his legs. "I don't wanna come until your dick's inside me, Daniel; was I being too subtle before?"

"Why, yes, Jack," Daniel replied innocently, "Do ya think you could just go over it one more time?" He cocked his head to the side, wearing an interested but slightly confused expression. "Very. Very. Slowly." He wiggled his fingers a little for good measure.

Jack's glare lost its clout when his eyes rolled backward in his head.

Daniel chuckled as he withdrew his fingers. "I think you're loose enough. Turn over."

"Un-uh. Not on your life," Jack panted, hating the absence of Daniel's fingers.

Daniel pursed his lips, prepared to argue, but decided not to insist. He knew he wasn't going to be able to dissuade Jack from taking it on his back, even though the other way would've been so much easier for both of them.

He slicked up his cock and crawled up between Jack's legs, letting them rest across his arms and then lined up. His eyes never left Jack's as he shuffled even closer, pushing Jack's ass cheeks further apart. He took himself in hand and rubbed his cock against Jack's slippery opening, then leaned in, pushing the swollen crown gently against the stubborn muscle.

"Relax, Jack..."

Jack let go of his legs and gripped Daniel behind the neck with both hands. "Just _do it!"_

"No!" Daniel said through gritted teeth, "I won't hurt you! That would make me no better than them. I wanna make this good for you," he growled. "Now, _work_ with me!"

Grimacing, Jack bore down and after a long, suspenseful moment, the fat head of Daniel's cock popped past the first ring of muscle, eliciting a hiss of pain from Jack and a moan of surprised pleasure from Daniel.

"Oh, my god, Jack," Daniel gasped at the unaccustomed constriction around his dick. He swallowed hard. "That feels... _oh, fuck..._ are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Jack lied, biting his lip. It hurt like hell, but there was no way they were stopping now. "Just gimme a second here. You're fuckin' huge..."

"I wanna move..." Daniel muttered under his breath, his eyes tightly closed. He was astonished at how the sphere of his experience had spiraled down to just his cock. It almost hurt from the unfamiliar pressure, and the difference in temperature between the part of his dick that was inside Jack's body and the part that wasn't-

Inside. Jack. _Oh, god..._

"... goddamned tree trunk in my ass, and I'll be just spiffy," Jack snarked good-naturedly as his body remembered how to accept a cock. Then he noticed the expression on Daniel's face, eyes closed in almost a grimace of pain. "How is it?"

Eyes still closed, teeth tightly clenched, Daniel managed, "Tightoh _deargod_ you'resofuckintight..."

Jack smiled and tried to memorize his lover's intense expression in case Daniel decided once was enough. "Sweet."

"Do ya suppose I could move sometime soon?" Daniel asked tightly. He was alarmed at how strong his need to thrust was, and he knew Jack wasn't ready. He wanted to rear up onto the balls of his feet and pound Jack into the mattress with everything he had. He was expending tremendous amounts of effort trying to hold completely still until Jack could get used to the penetration, but it was becoming more difficult by the second to resist the motions his body seemed to instinctively know how to make. _"Fuck,_ I can't believe the way this feels..."

"Good?"

Daniel struggled to open his eyes, looking at his lover as he was poised on the knife's edge of something less than full penetration. "Oh, _shit_ yeah," he confirmed raggedly.

That admission took away all of Jack's doubt, and he consciously clenched his ass muscles then released them, letting Daniel sink in another inch or so. "Y'mean, move like that?"

"Arrrggghhh!" Daniel groaned, pushing off with his toes and letting gravity help him settle further into Jack's body. He couldn't help it, he couldn't do anything else, _he had to get inside..._ "Sorry, ohgodI'msosorry-" he panted, frowning. Damning himself for his brutish behavior.

"Shh... it's okay," Jack assured him, stroking Daniel's back lovingly. "I was ready for it. It's okay now."

Daniel was feeling an instinctive need to thrust _hard,_ and fighting it was taking all of his concentration. He shifted his hips slowly, screwing himself down completely, as far as he could go, and trying to hold still _right there._ He'd finally hit bottom, his balls snug up against Jack's ass. "God, Jack... I'm in."

"So you are," Jack whispered, cupping Daniel's cheek. "Welcome home..."

Daniel looked into the loving brown eyes beneath him and saw only trust and affection and acceptance. He could feel his own pulse in his dick. Or maybe it was Jack's pulse all around him. He decided it didn't matter. "I love you," he whispered.

Jack quirked a kind of sideways smile. "Back attcha, beautiful."

"You're gonna tell me when it's okay to move, right? Because I'm not sure how long I can just hang out here without fucking your brains out, which isn't at all what I want to do, but _deargod_ , you feel good all around my dick, and-"

"Whenever you're ready," Jack said smugly, "go for it."

Daniel pulled out nearly all the way and then leaned back in, hyper-aware of the drag against every millimeter of his foreskin as he moved within his lover. Now he understood why Jack had insisted they get blood tests so they could dispense with using condoms; feeling the silky passage all around his sensitized dick was raw and amazing, and knowing there was nothing at all between them, not even a thin layer of latex, made the act seem so much more intimate and personal.

He repeated the action, this time with a slight roll of his hips, and he heard Jack gasp. "That it?"

"God, yeah," Jack breathed, letting his eyes close.

Daniel duplicated the angle of thrust, and Jack's breath caught again, making Daniel smile. He was doing that to Jack, and it made him feel ten feet tall. He repeated the maneuver again and again, one right after another, trying to decide which felt better, the long, slow glide _into_ Jack's body, or the quick retreat, followed by another looong slooow gliiide....

Over and over again. He couldn't decide.

He experimented with a handful of short, jabbing strokes, and thought they felt pretty good, too. He pushed in more deeply, rocking Jack back onto his shoulders, then made a circular motion with his hips which felt _amazing._

_"Unh, unh, unh, unh,"_ Jack huffed with every thrust. "If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come," he warned.

Daniel slowed down and lowered himself to this forearms, letting Jack's legs settle around his waist, which squashed Jack's cock and balls between their bellies. He bumped noses with Jack until Jack opened up and kissed him, then he resumed shallow thrusting, more slowly this time.

It was as if his hips had a mind of their own and knew exactly what to do. "I want you to come. I wanna make you come," he whispered against Jack's lips. "With my dick. Inside you." He would never have imagined how loving and sexy those words could sound. "I wanna love you until you explode all over me..."

"Not yet!" Jack complained clutching Daniel to him. "I don't want it to be over yet-"

"Come, Jack," Daniel whispered, swiveling his hips a couple of times at close range and then thrusting seriously again. "I love making love to you this way..."

Jack shook his head. "Don't say that if it's not-"

"It is," Daniel assured him, "oh, god, it really is. We'll make it take longer next time, but I really hafta to come now... come inside you, fill you up..."

Jack wrapped his arms around Daniel's back, pulling him back in close. "Don't leave..."

"I won't leave, I'm here. Oh, god, Jack, I'm right here..." Daniel whispered words of comfort and reassurance against Jack's neck while his body continued to stroke against Jack's, into him, bringing them both closer to climax. "I love you... _ohgod,_ so very much..."

That seemed to be the trigger for Jack, and he arched up and cried out as he came. "Yes! _Ohgodyes..."_

Daniel continued to thrust slowly, watching Jack's face as he started to come and then a split second later, felt the contractions Jack's ass made as his climax ripped through him, spilling warmth against his belly. Daniel was swept up into his own orgasm almost immediately from that added stimulation; he couldn't've held it off if his life had depended on it. Pushing and leaning and moving, deeper and harder and _more..._

Still braced on his arms, Daniel rested his forehead on Jack's chest as the sensations ebbed away and he struggled to catch his breath. He moved his hips experimentally, enjoying the warm, frothy feeling of thrusting into his lover's welcoming body, open, and now filled to overflowing with his own come. He'd done it. He'd made love to Jack. And now they belonged to one another in every way.

It was powerful. And beautiful. And he wanted to do it again, every day for the rest of their lives. _What God hath brought together..._

"What did you just say?" Jack panted, stroking Daniel's back and enjoying the afterglow.

He didn't realize he'd said it aloud. "Nothin'," Daniel muttered against Jack's chest; nothing Jack would want to hear, anyway...

"Tell me..." _Jack insisted._

More than slightly embarrassed, Daniel sighed and turned his head to the side, resting his cheek against Jack's sweaty chest as he repeated softly, " _With my body I thee worship... and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.._." He didn't know why any of that had popped into his head, particularly at that moment, but it was out there now. He hoped Jack wouldn't get silly with it.

Jack smiled and rubbed loving circles on Daniel's ass. "I think I could really get into being worshipped..."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud..." Daniel muttered. He knew he'd never hear the end of it now.

Jack could almost _feel_ Daniel blushing. "So, we're married now?" he poked with a good-natured smirk.

Daniel lifted up on his arms, challenging his lover with flinty eyes. _"Jack..."_

And then all traces of humor were gone as Jack got the message that Daniel hadn't been pulling his leg, and he was about to get everything he'd ever wanted.

_Permanence._

"What's the rest of it, Danny?" Jack asked sincerely. He cupped Daniel's face, stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs, and whispered, "Ask me the rest of it."

Seeing Jack's behavior go so quickly from amused to solemn made Daniel realize that his lover wasn't making fun of him. He was looking for a pledge, something emotionally binding between the two of them, and not just some tacit understanding of convenience. He was more than okay with that.

"Do you promise to keep yourself only unto me, and to know no other?" Daniel asked. Words from every wedding he'd ever performed, and never more important and real to him than at that very moment. _"Forever?"_

Jack felt Daniel's warm breath bathing his face, his cock only now beginning to soften within his body. Oh, yeah, this was claiming and belonging all in one. _This_ was perfection. "I sure as hell do," he assured him earnestly.

"I give the same promise to you," Daniel said, feeling the bond between them deepening and strengthening. He leaned down to kiss Jack gently. "United. One flesh, one soul, one life. _Always."_

Jack smiled and held Daniel tighter. "Amen to _all_ of that."

End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to NC for his most excellent and charming research assistance. 
> 
> Thanks also to Jude and her Buddy for the spit and polish. And patience, did I mention patience? All remaining mistakes are my own. Usual disclaimers apply.


End file.
